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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342653">Free Trial Boyfriend</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/angelsnuffbox'>angelsnuffbox (MrsCaulfield)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/MrsCaulfield'>MrsCaulfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Full Boyfriend Experience [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Experienced Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Human AU, I mean seriously crowley has it BAD, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Romcom feels, Slow Burn, Swimmer Crowley, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:40:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/angelsnuffbox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsCaulfield/pseuds/MrsCaulfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Overall, Anthony Crowley considered himself a lucky fellow, with his good looks, good grades and a full ride swimming scholarship. There really wasn't much he can complain about.</p><p>But his real struggle was that he's completely, maddeningly in love with his best friend - a strong, passionate and oblivious angel who, even after a full year of pining, still can't seem to get the hint, no matter how many times Crowley has tried to flirt with him.</p><p>-</p><p>Crowley would never forget the day that the angel first talked to him, for he was certain that was the day that all the clocks around the world began suddenly moving.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Full Boyfriend Experience [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bittersweet Good Omens, Good Omens Human AUs, Ixnael’s Recommendations, Ixnael’s SFW corner, Our Own Side</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Let There Be Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This college AU came from an old idea I had to place Aziraphale and Crowley into a bunch of ridiculous Asian romcom tropes but now sort of evolved into its own thing. So there really is no fixed setting for this fic (don't think about it too hard). It's not set in London--I mean, it CAN be set in London, but can also equally be set in Japanifornia or something. You know how in a lot of college-oriented Korean dramas they sort of build this fantasy uni that probably doesn't actually exist anywhere? Picture this as one of those things. </p><p>And speaking of Korean dramas, some stuff from this fic I borrowed from Weightlifting Fairy (a romcom about people studying in a sports uni, with a handsome swimmer pining over a very oblivious chubby weightlifter), so if by any chance you've seen that, you might recognize some *very small* elements of it here!</p><p>In the end, though, this is still Aziraphale and Crowley, and I have tried to stay true to their characters as much as possible. This story made me laugh so much while writing! I hope it brings joy to you as well :)</p><p> </p><p>  <b> Fic rating: Rated T for tons of swearing and strong references to sexual themes scattered in dialogue </b></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On his second term in uni, Crowley took an anthropology class.</p><p>For the life of him, Crowley had no idea what sort of force compelled him to take such an irrelevant elective. But about a month before, a minor foot injury kept him from swim practice for a couple of weeks and with no other way to spend his time, he binge watched all four seasons of <em>The Good Place</em>, and that may have had something to do with it somehow.</p><p>He would never forget his first day in that class. True to his brand, he arrived just right on time. The professor wasn’t even there yet. He sauntered up the aisle steps to claim an empty seat and lounged for a bit, catching a few stares (again, true to his brand. He had been informed he had a <em>striking</em> appearance), though he paid them no mind.</p><p>More students began to pile into the room in small groups. He had no reason to keep track of all of them, and it was only by coincidence that he happened to be looking at the door when <em>he</em> entered the room.</p><p>The cherubic person made his way up the steps and instantly Crowley was drawn to gleaming white curls, a cute button nose, and big, light blue ever-shifting eyes which glistened way too charmingly under the gaudy-looking fluorescents that shone down on him. A pink jumper enveloped a soft and broad torso. He looked<em>… comfy.</em></p><p>The angel (because yes, Crowley had already decided to call him that at this point) stopped at an empty seat—which just so happened to be the one right in front of Crowley.</p><p>“Excuse me,” said the angel, and <em>heaven and earth</em>, even his voice was heavenly. Ringing and chiming, tidy and flourished. Was he even <em>real?</em> Crowley was probably gaping. God, please don’t let him be gaping.</p><p>The angel tugged at the hem of his jumper, smiling softly in his general direction. “Is this seat taken?”</p><p>“Nrrrf,” replied Crowley. A furrow of confusion crossed the angel’s face, so Crowley added a shake of his head.</p><p>The angel took the seat just as the professor entered the room and began to address them.</p><p>Crowley would never forget the day that the angel first talked to him, for he was certain that was the day that all the clocks around the world began suddenly moving.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley was running late.</p><p>Striding down the corridor, he slammed his hands on the double doors of the lecture hall, ran up the aisle stairs and shot himself into his usual seat with hardly a breath (for obvious reasons, his cardio capabilities were beyond average)—right as the professor began his lecture.</p><p>“Alright, everyone. Last week I asked you to go over the assigned readings. Would anyone like to share their thoughts?”</p><p>Ah, fuck. He completely forgot about the readings, having spent the entire weekend poring over a problem set on fluid dynamics. He spotted the angel before him, his chin propped up on his hands adorably, listening to the lecture like it was a blockbuster. The professor started going about the room, calling on random people to share their insights.</p><p>Surreptitiously, Crowley leaned forward in his seat, running his gaze over soft tendrils of the angel’s fluffy white hair.</p><p>“Hey, um.” And here he realized that he never really got to know the angel’s <em>name</em>. But he could play it cool. He cleared his throat, put on his suave rumbling tone and said, “I kinda screwed up over the readings. Do you know what we’re s’posed to be talking about today?”</p><p>He didn’t reply. Didn’t even so much as nudge his pretty head a bit to wonder at that buzzing noise by his ear. He didn’t hear Crowley at all.</p><p>
  <em>Huh. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The professor liked to have group discussions. He divided the class into several smaller groups so they could discuss among themselves the assigned topic for that week. By some stroke of luck, Crowley managed to get into the same group as the angel, who introduced himself using the equally angelic name of <em>Aziraphale</em>.</p><p>As if he wasn’t already taken enough, Aziraphale turned out to be really smart as well. Each week, he graced the group with his brazen and insightful take on the material, naturally taking lead of the discussion. He talked so deeply, so passionately, and with a slight flair for storytelling that Crowley was convinced he could never get tired of just listening to him speak.</p><p>Yes, dear reader, it was <em>that</em> bad.</p><p>It was natural, then, that the entire group would come to rely on Aziraphale. Just as matter tended to settle onto the field with the least amount of turbulence. Having Aziraphale to walk their group through each discussion was a stability they all clung to like a lifeboat. But Crowley found this a bit unfair and resolved to try his best to aid in group discussions as well.</p><p>This led to one weekend where he sat down with his readings and got through them one by one, scrutinizing every detail. It was laborious, and to be honest Crowley had never really been much of a reading type. (He appeared to have a <em>reader</em> type, but that was neither here nor there.) By the time he made it to class the following week, he felt all the better for doing it.</p><p>Unfortunately, that was also the day that Aziraphale showed up looking like utter crap.</p><p>The bags under his eyes have tripled and he trudged up the stairs slowly to get to his seat.</p><p>“I’m, ah. Sorry,” said Aziraphale to their little group, gnawing on a plush bottom lip. “So many things have happened this past week and I’m afraid I wasn’t able to attend to the assigned reading material.”</p><p>“Is there anyone else who got to go over the material?” Piped another member from the group, looking around their huddle.</p><p>Crowley figured this would be the perfect time to whip out all the knowledge he gained over the weekend, to retrieve the fruit of his sleepless nights and obtain Aziraphale’s adoration for the rest of the term.</p><p>“Well,” he began to speak. All eyes turned to look at him. <em>Aziraphale</em> was looking at him. He swallowed, bracing himself, and stopped.</p><p>He’d forgotten <em>everything</em>.</p><p>“There was… this bit about Southeast Asian cultures and penis sheaths.”</p><p>He was met with silence.</p><p>Aziraphale blinked rapidly.</p><p>Oh, but Crowley wasn’t done. Why wasn’t he done? For the love of <em>Someone</em>, why was his brain still attempting something?</p><p>“Y-you know, the thing they use on-on—” he ended up making some sort of milking gesture with his fist which not even he could comprehend the meaning of.</p><p>Crowley was sure his soul ascended and he was never to recover.</p><p>“Um, right. Thanks, Crowley.” said the other group member, taking out his laptop. “How ‘bout we each quickly go over one article and try to make something out of that?”</p><p>The entire group readily agreed, eager to forget whatever point it was that Crowley was trying to make.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He never got to talk to Aziraphale again for the rest of the term.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley still saw him around campus sometimes. Aziraphale was a bit hard to miss, really. At times he’d see the angel as Crowley was walking back home from training. He always seemed to be in a rush. Often, he encountered him in the university library, nose deep into a different book each time.</p><p>He hadn’t intended on being some creepy stalker. It wasn’t like he actively tried to follow Aziraphale wherever he went. All their encounters had been mere coincidence, yet he did find himself slowly gravitating to some spots he knew Aziraphale frequented—the cafe beside the natural sciences building, the bench over by the duck pond in the center of campus, or the table with the green-striped tablecloth in one cozy corner of the library.</p><p>But moreover, life went on. Crowley focused on not losing his scholarship and won his team a couple of medals (or seven). He had always been happiest when in the pool. He went to parties, hung out with some cool friends and not-so-cool ones. He was a fairly attractive fellow, and he took liberty in pleasures of the flesh. But no one he'd slept with had ever taken him the way Aziraphale did. For some reason, he could never forget about that clever angel from anthropology. But he did his best. Crowley wasn’t a creep. It wasn’t as though Aziraphale was his ex, just a silly crush he’d never gotten the courage to pursue. He never even tried to talk to the angel again after they finished taking that one class they miraculously shared.</p><p>And it wasn’t as if Aziraphale ever saw him anyway.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He saw Aziraphale less and less in the library, which he found a bit odd. Gradually, he started to disappear from his other frequented spots, and Crowley began to worry a tad.</p><p>That was until he did encounter him, on the pathway in between the natural sciences and engineering buildings. Aziraphale briskwalked down the path, a large plastic box filled with what appeared to be a bunch of rocks<em>(?) </em>inside.</p><p>Crowley attempted to sidestep to allow him to pass through, but the angel had apparently been bounding up fast and got there too early. He collided straight into Crowley and swerved at the very last minute, the corner of the box digging roughly into Crowley’s ribs, knocking all the breath out of his lungs.</p><p>“<em>Oowf!</em>” Crowley heaved sharply. The noise he made was akin to that of a dying seal, probably. That was sure to bruise.</p><p>“Oh dear! I am ever so sorry! Are you alright?”</p><p>Crowley wheezed and took a couple of seconds to reply, trying to remember when was the last time that Aziraphale addressed him with a question. “M’fine, angel,” he muttered.</p><p>It took him another couple of seconds for his brain to register what he’d just said, and by then it had been too late.</p><p>“Um. Right, that is good.” Aziraphal’s cheeks were flushed. Crowley had never seen a more beautiful sight. Aziraphale shifted his arms, adjusting the weight of the box from his wrist to his forearms. “Well, I am sorry. I’m in a great hurry. I’ll be late for work. I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p>“M’fine,” was all he was capable of replying.</p><p>With a curt bow of his head (as the weirdly dandy-esque man couldn’t do a proper bow thanks to the gigantic plastic box pressing against his midsection), Aziraphale turned back around and walked away, heading towards the natural sciences building.</p><p>Crowley remained standing there for a few more minutes, cradling his aching ribs in his hands.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“You realize that sooner or later you will need to go up and actually talk to him, right?”</p><p>This was said to him by his good friend Anathema Device as they paced down the steps of engineering. Aziraphale ran past them with a hasty <em>‘Pardon me!’ </em>before he raced down and disappeared from view.</p><p>“Why would I?” Crowley replied. Coolly. Aziraphale was only someone he’d see from time to time, much like all other humans.</p><p>Anathema rolled her eyes. “You’ve been following him around—”</p><p>“I haven’t been following him. All my sightings have been purely coincidental. You know that, right? It’s important to me that you know that.” Crowley raised a demanding brow.</p><p> “This has to stop. Just go up and talk to him! It’s not like he doesn’t already know who you are.”</p><p>“That’s the thing though. He <em>doesn</em><em>’t</em> know who I am.” Crowley looked across the road to some rough patch of trees. About half a dozen people walked underneath the shade, yet to Crowley they weren’t moving at all. “If he’s seen me before, he certainly doesn’t remember.”</p><p>“That’s because you’ve never tried to talk to him.”</p><p>“I have.” Crowley remembered that one time from anthropology, when he’d asked about the readings. “Didn’t even notice I was there.”</p><p>“Wow.” Anathema furrowed her brows in thought. “That is one tough cookie.”</p><p>“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“You don’t have to be scared. He’s actually very nice, you know.”</p><p>Of course he knew. He’d only been surreptitiously observing the man for over a damn year.</p><p>“How can you possibly know that, hm?” said Crowley snarkily. “Met him on some seminar for weirdos about nefarious methods of divination?”</p><p>“Did I never tell you? He’s Newt’s roommate.”</p><p>Crowley blinked from behind his sunglasses.</p><p>“You <em>never</em> told me that.”</p><p>“I don’t owe you anything, you demon.” Anathema shrugged off his icy glare. “Do you even know what he’s majoring in?”</p><p>“Pshhh… Of course I do. It’s um.” He racked his brains, trying to recover some memories of the angel, picking up various clues from different sightings. “…Something to do with rocks, probably.”</p><p>“Oh god, do not let him hear you say that. Ever. He might actually kill you.”</p><p>“Hey! It was a pretty sound deduction considering how little I had to go on.”</p><p>“Well done then, Sherlock Holmes. He’s in paleontology.”</p><p>“So rocks then.”</p><p>“You’re insufferable.”</p><p>“Correct. Why do you even hang out with me.”</p><p>“Crowley, he is literally just next door to us.” She jerked a thumb over at the natural sciences building, around a couple hundred metres from where they stood. “He’s also doing some part time work for one of the labs, so you’re bound to run into him plenty more times!”</p><p>“Yeah. What about it?”</p><p>Anathema groaned. “Seriously, dude. Just promise me you’ll actually go up and talk to him the next time you see him.”</p><p>Crowley sighed. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it. Next time I see him I’ll try to go up and say hi.”</p><p>“And I don’t believe you.” She narrowed her eyes at Crowley.</p><p>Damn these bloody <em>psychics</em>.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sat in one cozy little nook of the university library, a pair of small circular glasses up his nose, and surrounded by piles and piles of crumpled sheets of paper.</p><p>Crowley sat a couple of tables away, an open textbook in front of him which he’d abandoned ten minutes earlier when he realized that the angel was there as well.</p><p>A worried expression was etched on his features, and it bothered Crowley a bit. This was far from the usual tranquil expressions that he took on. What could possibly be causing him to look so utterly constipated in a <em>library?</em></p><p>Aziraphale scrawled long, angry strokes with his pencil before releasing an agonized groan and promptly smashing his cheek on the table.</p><p>Crowley suddenly felt guilty for witnessing this and quickly turned his  focus back on his own book. He reread the paragraph that he’d been on for the past twenty minutes, the words not making any sense, getting him to frown at the offending page. Why wasn’t it cooperating?</p><p>A hand shot out to grasp his shoulder. Crowley jumped in his seat, looking up and mechanically swatting it off.</p><p>He came face to face with Anathema.</p><p>“This is getting ridiculous.”</p><p>He shot her a glare. “Sod off.”</p><p>“You like him.”</p><p>Crowley looked up at her over the rim of his glasses in a <em>So what? </em>kind of way. He was the kind of person to think himself that level of cool.</p><p>“Not really thinking of dating at the moment, you know that. S’not a good idea.”</p><p>Anathema turned suddenly serious. “Please. It’s been months since…”</p><p>“Marcus.”</p><p>“Yeah, months since he left. And we both know that wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>In response to that, Crowley made—well, no response.</p><p>Anathema, in a pure show of her stubbornness, huffed. “Fine. If you won’t do anything, then I will.”</p><p>Crowley leaned back in his seat. “Fine with me.” She stomped off towards Aziraphale, and Crowley jumped back up. “—Wait, <em>no!”</em></p><p>Too late. Anathema had already reached him and they were already engaging in polite conversation. Crowley had no idea what they were saying, but it appeared that Aziraphale, upon recognising her, had begun to tell her what his problem was, to which Anathema replied…</p><p>Anathema replied by pointing a finger in Crowley’s direction.</p><p>He quickly ducked his chin, back to the offending textbook. Make some bloody sense, damn it!</p><p>Footsteps were already approaching him. Footsteps which he resolutely ignored. Why did Anathema have to meddle in this?</p><p>“So,” said Anathema when they’d stopped at his table. “Crowley, I’d like you to meet Aziraphale.”</p><p>“Hello, Crowley,” said the angel, now only a foot away from him—a year of distance closed in a matter of seconds, warping space and time itself.  </p><p>Crowley stared. And stared. And finally said, “Did you need something?”</p><p>From behind the angel’s shoulder, Anathema gave him a fierce glare.</p><p>This seemed to shock Aziraphale, who suddenly looked nervous. <em>Crap. Way to go, idiot,</em> thought Crowley.</p><p>“Well, um. Yes! Actually. Here.” He presented to Crowley a page from one of his books. “I-I don’t quite understand this formula and… Anathema has been kind enough to refer me to… well, you.”</p><p>As he was still incapable of basic speech, Anathema swooped in to save the conversation. “Crowley here is one of the top students in our program,” she said, sickeningly sweet as she gestured to him. Crowley’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help you.”</p><p>“Will you, Crowley?” He asked in that soft angelic tone that gutted him.</p><p>How did even he<em> do</em> that? There was no way he could say no to that dumb voice and that stupid face. Absolutely fucking unfair.</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Crowley took a few seconds to read over the page. It’s been a while since he studied this topic.</p><p>Crowley was still focused on the problem, scanning it quickly to jog his memory, when the empty chair beside his own skidded on the wooden floor and, in only a second, contained in it a pretty angel.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Aziraphale said, gesturing to Crowley’s still open textbook. “It appears you were doing a bit of your own studying.”</p><p>“Don’t mind it,” Crowley replied automatically, his eyes never leaving the sheet of paper where they were safe. “I could use a bit of a break.”</p><p>“Oh, shoot!” Exclaimed Anathema, drawing in both their gazes. Crowley couldn’t resist raising an assessing brow over her deplorable acting skills. “I have to meet up with Newt now! You guys got it from here, right?”</p><p>Aziraphale frowned adorably. “But I thought Newt was working today?”</p><p>“Yeah, Anathema. I thought Newt was working today?”</p><p>Her tone shifted to downright murderous—but it had to be subdued. Crowley inwardly celebrated his victory. Annoying one another was his and Anathema’s greatest skillset.</p><p>“Well, he’s taking a day off. For me,” she hissed through gritted teeth.</p><p>Aziraphale gave a cheery good-bye when she left, and with nothing else to hold his attention, he turned to look back at Crowley—who had to prepare himself for the sight of gorgeous blue eyes that were up way too close than he was accustomed to. <em>Christ</em>, what was wrong with him?</p><p>“Do you usually study this neatly?”</p><p>“Sorry?” said Crowley, taken aback by the random inquiry.</p><p>“I can’t ever picture myself studying by just reading from a book.” Aziraphale looked a bit shy. “Don’t you need to scribble down stuff and take notes to commit them to memory?”</p><p>“Not really,” he replied. He caught a glimpse of Aziraphale’s table, which was still filled with so much damn stuff. He’d never really given it much thought before. “Usually I just get the syllabus, read the book, then I answer the tests. Training takes up most of my time so I don’t really stop to make a bunch of notes and stuff.”</p><p>“Training?”</p><p>Crowley couldn’t resist the prideful grin on his face. This was the one thing he did that he was certainly proud of. “I’m on the university swimming team. Managed not to lose my scholarship so far.”</p><p>“Oh.” Aziraphale looked embarrassed. “I see. That’s quite brilliant, actually—if not downright infuriating.”</p><p>This piqued Crowley’s inbred curiosity. What reason could Aziraphale have to be angry?<em> He </em>was the brilliant one—diligent, insightful, hard-working. Crowley was just a guy who sometimes got lucky.</p><p>“Thank you for helping me, by the way. I know we’ve only met once before, when I bumped into you—”</p><p>“We haven’t, actually.”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>Crowley sighed. Well, it’s now or never. He pushed down the stinging in his chest and spoke.</p><p> “We<em> have</em> met before. Plenty of times, actually. We’ve never exactly been that much apart.”</p><p>“No, surely I would’ve remembered!”</p><p>Crowley shook his head. “Anthropology class, remember?”</p><p>He gasped. “Oh, I loved that class! You were in there, too? Oh dear, I’m very sorry. It was quite a large lecture hall—"</p><p>“I sat right behind you the entire time. And we were in the same discussion group.”</p><p>A mortified look crossed over the angel’s face as he desperately searched his brain for the memory. He looked at Crowley, scrutinizing every feature. It was a decent attempt, but Aziraphale probably wouldn’t remember him at a—</p><p>“Oh, OH!” Aziraphale bounced in his seat, jabbing an enthusiastic finger in his direction. “I remember now! You were the penis ring fellow!”</p><p><em>Bugger it all.</em> Can he just return to ignoring Crowley’s entire existence?</p><p>“I’m terribly sorry that I didn’t remember you. It was so long ago. But the penis ring really did it for me!”</p><p>And because his brain was a show-off— “Actually, it was a penis <em>sheath</em>,” he mumbled, short only of bursting to flames.</p><p>“Why didn’t you try and talk to me then?”</p><p>Crowley had no idea how much deeper his ego had to plunge today. No matter. Into the deep end we go.</p><p>“Um, I did. You never responded.”</p><p>A mixture of sadness and frustration tainted the angel’s expression. “Impossible. I never should’ve forgotten you. How very stupid of me.”</p><p>A wave of tension rose in between them. He gazed expectantly at Crowley, and Crowley couldn’t bear to see it. It was almost as if the angel was <em>disappointed</em> somehow.</p><p>“Right, um.” Crowley drew their attention back to the formula that Aziraphale had inquired about, and the moment passed. Once he was able to explain it, Aziraphale thanked him profusely again, and returned to his own seat across the room.</p><p>Crowley was left red-faced and hardly breathing.</p><p>
  <em>Fuckfuckfuckfuck.</em>
</p><p>It had been over a year. Today, Aziraphale had talked to him—<em>really </em>talked to him for the first time.</p><p>Crowley glanced at his phone, the screen brightening up to show him that eighteen minutes had elapsed since the beginning of their conversation.</p><p>And in that eighteen minutes, Crowley had enough wits and enough sense to realize that he was already <em>miserably</em> in love with Aziraphale.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cachu Hwch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley asks Aziraphale to dinner!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for all the feedback from the previous chapter!! I'm so ecstatic, I haven't gotten that much response over a first chapter before! I hope you stick around for this fic here's the next one &lt;3</p><p>Oh! And just to be clear, human Crowley in this fic just has David's eyes, but he still likes to wear sunglasses because it's *cool* 😎</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley had just gotten off the bus, sauntering towards the records store in high street when his phone began to vibrate from inside his pocket.</p><p>He groaned, jamming his hand down the fabric of his skin-tight jeans and struggling for a bit, which meant he had to stop in the middle of the pathway. What did Anathema want this time?</p><p>There Crowley stood, with several passersby swerving astride him, entranced by his mobile screen and a photo of a handwritten solution process to what appeared to be some problem regarding relativistic mass that had been sent to him.</p><p>He glared at the screen as if waiting for some secret message to reveal itself through the swirls of numbers and letters <em>a la</em> <em>The Da Vinci Code</em>. This could be it—the beginning of a long, high-stakes trailblazing series of mysteries that would set him off on a course to change his entire life.</p><p>But no such thing occurred, because he was no Robert Langdon. <em>Duh</em>. Though the cipher did come soon enough in the form of a text message.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Does this look alright to you? I am terribly scared that I</strong> <strong>’ve done it wrong.</strong></p><p>
  
</p><p>He glanced around, confused. This text sounded an awful lot like—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>This is Aziraphle by the way.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>*Azirphal</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>*AZIRAPHALE</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Sorry. Asked Anathema for yor number. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>*YOUR</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>A wicked grin found its way across Crowley’s face, equally shocked as it was bemused. His feet finally managed to unstick themselves from the ground. He switched off his phone and walked aimlessly down the aisles of the record store while he deliberated on how best to reply.</p><p>He checked his phone again. No new messages. Eight minutes had passed. His thumb lingered on the screen before surrendering to the worldly forces of <em>fuck it all </em>and hitting send.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Ur gonna have to show me what the problem is first before asking if youve solved it.</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He noticed his cheeks were stinging, because he was still grinning. And then, he launched into panic.</p><p>He was texting Aziraphale. The angel.</p><p> </p><p>No big deal.</p><p> </p><p>His phone lit up once again with a series of new messages.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I would send it but sending photos takes such a long tim</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>*time</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>And I abhor texting. I have a terrible relationshop with technology.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><em>Then how can I help u??</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Crowley trudged off back to the bus stop, the objective of making any purchase long forgotten. But he was in no mood to return to his flat, so he spent the next two minutes of waiting for a reply handsomely glaring at the STOP sign. His phone buzzed again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>We can meet up somewhere? Or you can come over to my place. I am kind of desperate.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s phone slipped from his hand, slid down his jeans, clattered down to the ground.</p><p>“<em>Fuck!</em>”</p><p>Was Aziraphale even aware how much that text sounded like a <em>come on</em>?</p><p>He stooped down—which proved to be quite the feat considering the limitations his skinny jeans placed on him. He ended up half-bent at the hip, his arse jutted out at an awkward angle as he brought a long hand onto the pavement and patted the ground.</p><p>At last, he managed to get a grip on his phone. He picked it up, groaning.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><em>Sdf35</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It was too late to unsend that one, apparently.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Just for 5 minutes? I live in _____. I</strong> <strong>’ll just run the problem by you and you can be off in a jiffy.</strong></p><p> </p><p>Crowley stilled, wondering how best to reply. It wasn’t like he <em>didn</em><em>’t</em> want to go see the angel (Lord knows he’s <em>well past that</em>). It was more like his brain was rattling inside his skull and making a ton of clanging noises. No, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it. The problem was that he did. Aziraphale was asking for help and he couldn’t find it in himself to say no and that was kind of maybe frightening him to near-death.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Only if you aren</strong> <strong>’t busy! Please do not let me keep you.</strong></p><p> </p><p>Crowley blinked at the new message twice. He was on a train to Aziraphale’s in the next five minutes.</p><p>He didn’t end up just spending five minutes in Aziraphale’s (and Newt’s) apartment. Because when he arrived, Aziraphale drew him in with warm tea and some controversial takes on ancient sea life <em>(damn those early cephalopods with their specialized heads and jet propulsions).</em> He was entranced all throughout, completely fucking convinced that he could spend millennia just listening to the sound of his voice.</p><p>He tried to respond in kind. He really did. But he was a shit conversationalist, and what interesting thing can he say to someone who was practically the Earth’s sole walking encyclopedia? For some reason, Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind, and asked him lots of questions as well. They ended up conversing well into the night, until Aziraphale took note of the time and Crowley realized he ought to be headed home.</p><p>Aziraphale walked him to the door. They lingered, Aziraphale shooting up a small, almost bashful smile as he gazed up at Crowley. Clad in a gaudy sweater and trousers, with his lips chapped by the dry air and his white fluffy hair in full disarray Crowley had only one word on his mind: <em>Adorable</em>.</p><p>Aziraphale touched his arm, giving it a firm squeeze. “Thank you very much for today, Crowley. I’m glad you came over.”</p><p>“Me too,” he replied, blushing.</p><p>Aziraphale dropped his hand. “Tell me when you get home safely, alright?”</p><p>“What for?” Crowley said, brows furrowing.</p><p>The angel appeared to be just as confused with his response. “Because that is what friends usually do?” He chuckled.</p><p>
  <em>Friends.</em>
</p><p>He swallowed. “Right, yeah. ‘Course. Night.”</p><p>“Good night, Crowley.”</p><p>In a daze, Crowley clambered back out into the streets. His phone showed him just how late it’d gotten. It was nearly midnight.</p><p>And they never discussed the physics problem.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The water has always had a way of clearing Crowley’s thoughts. The way it uplifted and pressed down on you in equal parts was very comforting. The focus required to maintain speed as his body undulated through the tides, tearing through the surface and dragging them behind him, was near bliss.</p><p>Crowley enjoyed training—and that’s <em>despite</em> the existence of his merciless Coach Beez. He wasn’t one to brag, but having been on the team for nearly two years, he thought he was pretty good—or at least, miles better than any of his teammates, but it was Beez who dragged his lofty ego underground when they said his butterfly was utter shit.</p><p><em>‘You gotta be joking,’ </em>he’d told them. <em>‘My butterfly is fucking perfect.’</em></p><p>And here he was anyway, dolphin kicking his way across the pool twenty minutes after Coach had dismissed them all and left.</p><p>“Croww-ley!”</p><p>Crowley’s head resurfaced by the pool’s edge, his toned arms heaving himself up and over with practiced ease to glare at Eric, the young new recruit.</p><p>“What?” said Crowley, shaking droplets out of his dark red hair, matted black by the weight of pool water. He stood up straight and walked about, trying to get used to the feeling of <em>legs</em> again. Bloody things were always more difficult to use on <em>land</em>.</p><p>“Someone’s asking for you. He’s over by the door.”</p><p>He slung a towel over his shoulders and padded over to the entrance, his steps annoyingly squeaky. When he saw Aziraphale waiting for him, he had a brief moment where he suddenly regretted not putting clothes on.</p><p>Wait a second there. Since when did he care who saw him—with swim trunks or without? He’s had it from dozens of people that his form, though rather alien-like to him, was easy on the eyes. If his crush wanted to feast on it, then why should he have anything to be self-conscious about? It’s not as if Aziraphale was going to like him for much else.</p><p>With this in mind, he put a more confident swagger to his walk. “Hey,” he said when he reached the angel.</p><p>Aziraphale perked up upon seeing him. “Crowley! Oh dear, it seems you are busy. I didn’t mean to interrupt your training.”</p><p>“S’fine. I actually just finished. What’s up?”</p><p>Aziraphale opened his sling bag<em> (tartan straps, really?) </em>and fished out a black coat. “You left this at my place last night. I was hoping to hand it over to Anathema when I passed by her this morning, but she told me that I may just find you here and give it to you myself.”</p><p>Crowley took the jacket from him with numb fingers. Aziraphale’s eyes were so soft, looking at him with sparkling tenderness and not even running a shifty gaze over his bare torso like so many others have done when he met them in his just-out-of-the-water state. <em>No one</em> looked at him like this before. It made him squirm.</p><p>“Stop it.”</p><p>Aziraphale stilled. “Pardon?”</p><p>“You, looking at me all funny. Stop it.”</p><p>A faint flush dusted the angel’s cheeks and he laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m certain this is my first time seeing you without glasses.”</p><p>“Yeah, and?”</p><p>“I never knew your eyes to have such a nice warm shade to them. It’s like… like—”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Chocolate!”</p><p>“<em>Chocolate?!</em>”</p><p>Aziraphale nodded, beaming proudly at his astute comparison. “Very richly brown. And lovely.”</p><p>Crowley now seriously regretted not wearing a shirt. He must be red all the way from the tips of his ears to his chest. What was Aziraphale trying to do to him, saying these things? For the love of god, was he <em>flirting</em> with him?</p><p>He would never admit it, but his heart took a flutter at the thought.</p><p>“Would you like to get dinner?”</p><p>The words were out before he could stop them, but he had to take this chance. Aziraphale was driving him nuts—he had to know if it wasn’t just him and <em>oh,</em> Aziraphale looked so very overjoyed at the question. Crowley’s heart thumped wildly. Oh<em> fuckbloodySatan’sballs </em>he may have a chance—</p><p>“Now that I think of it, I had an early lunch today, so I am rather starving. So yes, I would love to get dinner. There is a nice coffeehouse that I frequent and it’s conveniently on my way home so I may just get something from there. How about you, dear, where will you be getting dinner?”</p><p>Yeah, so.</p><p>That was a thing.</p><p>Crowley took his time—which was a mere 2.5 seconds—to recuperate before awkwardly clearing his throat.</p><p>“No, I… I was thinking we could—together, I mean.”</p><p>“Oh, I suppose that works too. Shall I wait for you outside, then?”</p><p>Crowley nodded. Years of people propositioning him for all sorts of lewd acts, to the point where it all got kinda annoying, and here he was begging for whatever Aziraphale would be willing to give him.</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll-I’ll go get changed.”</p><p>Aziraphale flashed him a blinding smile. “Don’t be long!”</p><p>Crowley may or may not have given himself a pep talk in the locker room before meeting up with Aziraphale again. This was fine. Even if it wasn’t a date, he was still getting dinner with Aziraphale which was, well, <em>more</em> progress than he’s ever had in over a year of pining over him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They headed to the coffee shop next to Natural Sciences, just as Crowley expected. It stood by an intersection busy with foot traffic. Across from it, Crowley paid no mind to anyone else, his head filled only with Aziraphale, and he stepped off the sidewalk ahead of the angel.</p><p>There was the screeching of tires as someone on a bike attempted to brake at the very last moment to avoid running into him. Crowley was rather delayed in realizing all this, and before he could even register the<em> existence</em> of the person on a bike, a hand shot out and grasped his collar, and he <em>flew</em> back into the sidewalk.</p><p>“Oi! Watch it, you arse!” said the person on the bike.</p><p>“He’s very sorry!” replied Aziraphale, but the person seemed not to hear him and only rode away. He turned quickly back to Crowley, still gripping hard on the collar of his jacket. “Crowley, are you alright? Do be more careful.”</p><p>Crowley was still in the middle of processing how Aziraphale managed to <em>lift him up off the ground</em> with one hand and could only reply with, “Uhrngh.”</p><p>The road did eventually clear up, and Aziraphale released him with a relieved smile. “There. It should be safe to cross now. Come, let’s hurry.”</p><p>Aziraphale already had his back turned to him, walking in the direction of the café and Crowley was still delayed in processing everything and only said, “Hrrnggh.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Have you been here before?” asked Aziraphale, bouncing on his toes as he perused the glass-enclosed pastry display. “I’m very fond of their croissants.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Maybe once or twice, just passed by. The music they put on’s weird.” He paused, bringing both their attention to some melancholy 1940s ballad blasting from the overhead speakers.</p><p>Once their orders were placed, they took a table by the window. He observed the angel, smiling but fidgeting in his seat.</p><p>“You can take out your book, you know,” said Crowley after a few minutes of his restless wriggling. “I know you want to, and I don’t mind.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked struck. “What book?”</p><p>“The one you were so engrossed in when I met up with you after changing. You must be itching to get back to it. I don’t mind.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s expression broke into relief. “That’s so kind of you.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. It didn’t seem like much of a sacrifice on his part, and it would make the angel more comfortable.</p><p>Aziraphale took out a worn copy of Georgette Heyer’s <em>Venetia. </em>Crowley raised a brow over the cover—a woman in a long pink dress and some guy with a top hat lurking in the background, staring at her.</p><p>“Huh. I didn’t think you were into that stuff.”</p><p>“What stuff?”</p><p>Crowley gestured to the book. “Trashy romance.”</p><p>Aziraphale feigned an offended gasp. “How dare you. Heyer is a classic!”</p><p>“That she may be, but then I always <em>must </em>judge a book by its cover.”</p><p>“The cover is a bit… deterring, I confess.”</p><p>“Not sure I’d use that word.”</p><p>“But the actual writing is very different!” He brushed a hand over it, dog ears and cracked spine and all. “It’s one of my comfort novels. Venetia and Lord Damerel make such an interesting pair.”</p><p>“How many times have you read it, exactly?”</p><p>“I am not giving you that information.”</p><p>The angel had a bastard side. Crowley grinned wickedly. “Do you mind if I borrow it, then?”</p><p>Aziraphale turned suspicious. “What—”</p><p>“I just wanna know what you love so much about it.” Aziraphale still looked hesitant. “Come on. Wouldn’t it be fun to have someone to talk about it with?”</p><p>Here he nodded eagerly. “That does sound exciting. I would love to know how you find it, skeptic as you are.”</p><p>“Then hand it over.”</p><p>Carefully, Aziraphale placed the prized possession onto his palm, their fingers brushing in the process and sending a crackle of electricity up Crowley’s arm. He may have heard Aziraphale’s breathing hitch.</p><p>Crowley gritted his teeth. At this rate, he may as well be<em> in</em> the trashy romance novel.</p><p>They consumed their dinner in relative quiet, Aziraphale pleasantly occupied in <em>another</em> book. Crowley finished his food first and excused himself to go to the loo.</p><p>He could almost give himself a pat on the back. This wasn’t going so bad at all. There’s food and good conversation. Aziraphale looked really pleased to be talking with him. Crowley managed to secure a way for them to meet again (by borrowing his book).</p><p>Not bad at all. It was almost like a proper date. So maybe it wasn’t moving as fast as Crowley was used to, but he can certainly steer it from there. He walked out of the loo, eager to return to his angel, and stopped dead when he saw a man crouched over their table and handing Aziraphale what appeared to be a slip with a phone number written on it.</p><p>Crowley’s sure he was seeing red.</p><p>Yeah, sure Aziraphale wasn’t <em>his</em> date, but surely that guy should’ve seen enough of them to know to back off? Maybe they weren’t on a date, but Crowley was damn well sure they looked like it!</p><p>When the guy returned to his own table, Crowley strode over and reclaimed his seat, taking a calming breath.</p><p>“I saw that,” he said, feigning disinterest. He could do that easily, once. “Congratulations, you. He must’ve been so enamoured with you to give his number like that, waiting until I disappeared and all.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s eyes went all wrinkly and confused before widening. He laughed. “Oh, don’t be silly. People don’t do that with <em>me</em>. He wanted me to give it to <em>you</em>.”</p><p>The piece of paper was slid over to Crowley’s side of the table. It sat there, stared at and untouched like it had offended its recipient just by existing.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“He’s a bit intimidated by you, oh but he seemed very nice! I told him you weren’t seeing anyone, to the best of my knowledge. It was rather adorable, really.”</p><p>“And you’re okay with that?”</p><p>“Well, to be fair, you do look a bit frightening sometimes.”</p><p>With a heaving sigh, Crowley leaned sideways and let his head land on the glass window with a loud thud.</p><p>A total fucking disaster.</p><p>“Are you ready to go, then?” Aziraphale asked, wholly oblivious to Crowley’s internal Armageddon.</p><p>Crowley grunted and stood up. Aziraphale did the same.</p><p>“Won’t you be taking that?” Aziraphale pointed to the slip that was still on the table.</p><p>Crowley shrugged.</p><p>“Now, don’t be rude. He may still be watching us right now.”</p><p>Crowley took the paper in his fist and shoved it deep in his pocket. With any luck, it’ll dissolve straight into the laundry.</p><p>Aziraphale smiled. “This was nice, Crowley. I’m glad you came up with the idea of getting dinner together. We should do this more often.”</p><p>Crowley looked down at his hopeful face, his hair gleaming like fucking stardust. God help him.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>The bright, lightyears-spanning beam of light from Aziraphale’s smile somehow made everything worth it. Crowley began to feel an oddly relaxed tingling in his bones and, despite everything against him, he felt himself smiling back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed Crowley and Aziraphale's first not-date! Oh and follow me on twitter if you aren't doing that yet! @angelsnuffbox</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our favorite college duo get to know each other better!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for Tony (@lurk_to_cope) for beta-ing this chapter for me! Really appreciate it &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[Incoming message]</p><p>
  <strong>Hello, Crowley. If by any chance you aren’t busy at the moment, I was wondering if you want to come over. I am a bit out of sorts.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>[Sent]</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Coming over.</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Much to Aziraphale’s surprise, Crowley was at the door half an hour. Quite odd, considering his and Newt’s apartment was several train stops away from campus, and Aziraphale wasn’t expecting Crowley to come for at least a couple of hours—yet here he was, leaning against the doorframe, slightly out of breath.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Aziraphale?” he asked, very serious.</p><p>Aziraphale found that it was, for some inexplicable reason, quite difficult for him to speak.</p><p>“Your hair is wet,” was what came out instead. “Oh dear. Please don’t tell me you left in the middle of your training. I said <em>only </em>to come over if you aren’t busy.”</p><p>“I just finished.”</p><p>He stepped aside to make room for Crowley to enter—a routine they’d established for well over three months now. Three months which had been filled with such excitement for Aziraphale, who rarely found it easy to make friends, and he certainly never expected to be friends with someone like Crowley—oh, but he was such a delight to be with. Each time they were together, conversation flowed naturally. Aziraphale could talk about anything and Crowley would<em> listen</em>. They had very different interests, but they seemed to approach things with the same level of curiosity, and that was enough. Never had he connected with anyone like this before, and while Aziraphale was being earnest, in his mind he already considered Crowley his best friend. <em>(He blushed at the thought. What would Crowley even think if he were to tell him that? He, who had dozens of other friends.)</em></p><p>Crowley spun on his heel and waved his phone in front of Aziraphale’s face. “Well? You gonna tell me what’s up?”</p><p>Aziraphale stammered, suddenly feeling small as he whispered his next words. “I… I failed a test.”</p><p>"You wot?"</p><p>"I failed a test!" He repeated, louder this time.</p><p>They were both silent for a couple of seconds before Crowley spoke. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Aziraphale tried to shrug, to be as cool and indifferent as his friend. These were, in the grand scheme of things, such small setbacks and yet he fretted severely over them, making grand outcomes of little happenings that should not matter.</p><p>“It isn’t a big deal,” he said. Crowley did not look convinced.</p><p>“It obviously is to you,” Crowley said in a gentler tone that built something very warm in Aziraphale’s stomach. How odd. “I know you did your best.”</p><p>“And does that not make it even worse? I did my best!”</p><p>Crowley’s lips wobbled into a sardonic grin. “Yeah, it really does suck.”</p><p>“Absolutely! It’s like… I worked hard and I didn’t!”</p><p>“Yeah, you didn’t.”</p><p>“It wasn’t enough!”</p><p>“Bloody test, not testing you right.”</p><p>“Exactly! I studied very hard and the test screwed it all up!”</p><p>Crowley’s grin widened. They burst into laughter at the same time.</p><p>Lines crinkled at the corners of Crowley’s eyes when he laughed, faint dimples made evident on his cheeks. Aziraphale felt marginally better.</p><p>“Come on, then.” Crowley sauntered back over to the door.</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“We’re getting you ice cream. You deserve it after working hard.”</p><p>Aziraphale brightened up immediately. He was so glad that Crowley had come over.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>His favorite dessert place was open until eight. Naturally, they took to their usual booth, Aziraphale with his delectable looking sundae with about twenty different toppings, and Crowley with his vanilla soft serve.</p><p>It was all going well, seemingly. Aziraphale couldn’t wait to dig into his dessert, the place was quiet and filled with ambient light, and the cushions of his seat were so soft and comfy. But there was a heavy feeling left in his chest which caused him, every now and then, to think again of that awful failure. A sigh slipped past his lips.</p><p>Crowley took this moment to speak. “By the way, I've got something.”</p><p>Aziraphale waited as he rummaged through the contents of his thin backpack, taking out the copy of Heyer that he’d lent him a few weeks back.</p><p>“You’re finished with it?”</p><p>Crowley nodded.</p><p>Aziraphale was almost skeptic, unwilling to take the book just yet. “Are you really?”</p><p>“When did I ever lie to you?”</p><p>“What did you think of it, then? And do not—I knew it, you were about to shrug! Answer me properly, Anthony Crowley.”</p><p>“It’s… okay, I guess.”</p><p>“<em>Okay?</em>”</p><p>Crowley took his time savoring a bite of his soft serve. “The hero guy, bit dodgy, I think. I don’t like him.”</p><p>Aziraphale blinked in shock. “Well, I do believe that Lord Damerel’s Byronic traits were the entire point of the story and his character.”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess. But there’s something odd about the way he was written.”</p><p>“What’s odd? Do you not think it amazing that, though shunned by society for his past, Venetia saw in him all things that could be loved about him when others would not?”</p><p>This time, Crowley did shrug. “She’s fine, I guess.”</p><p>But Aziraphale would not—<em>could not</em> let it rest. “What is <em>wrong </em>with Damerel?” </p><p>His brows appeared from over the rims of his dark glasses. “Fine, you really want to know what I think of Damerel? I’m gonna be brutal. You’ve been warned.”</p><p>“I truly want to know.”</p><p>“It’s just, from their first meeting it’s all wrong, don’t you think?”</p><p>“You mean when Venetia wandered accidentally onto his property?”</p><p>Crowley tipped his head. “And do you recall what he did upon first seeing her?”</p><p>“Of course I do. He took her into his arms and kissed her.”</p><p>Crowley held out his palms in front of him, as if to say <em>‘Well there’s your answer!’</em></p><p>“Is there… something wrong with that?” Aziraphale asked, genuinely perplexed.</p><p>Crowley froze, his expression contorting oddly, with thoughts rushing transparently over his face. There was shock, a hint of mirth, but also genuine<em> concern</em>. Aziraphale squirmed under his scrutiny.</p><p>“Wait, do you seriously not know… Aziraphale, people aren’t supposed to go about kissing other people without their consent! Especially not strangers!”</p><p>“Oh.” Well, when put that way, it did make sense. But all those novels he’d read made it seem so normal! “But is that not what romance is supposed to be? Passionate and all-consuming? Throwing caution into the wind, and giving oneself to the throes of intense feeling?”</p><p>“Fuck, no!” Crowley seemed to shock himself too with how loudly he spoke. Then, in a gentler tone, he added: “I mean, it can be, if you want it to. But ultimately, you get to decide what romance should be for <em>you</em>.” </p><p>Aziraphale was almost embarrassed at his apparent lack of knowledge in the area. “I never thought of it like that. I’ve never… That is, I’ve never personally experienced anything of the sort. Dating and romance and all the other things that come with it.”</p><p>Something shifted in Crowley’s face, a sort of realization coming upon him which Aziraphale could not decipher.</p><p>“Not once?”</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head. “No one has ever really… you know. And I myself have never thought of needing it, though I do enjoy the concept as it's played out in the novels. That’s quite enough for me.” He added a small smile. “You probably think I’m strange.”</p><p>“Not at all,” said Crowley, though he looked the slightest bit rattled. “But it’s… I gotta admit that it’s a bit new. Strange, though? Nah, not really.”</p><p>Aziraphale felt a wave of relief course through him. “Will you tell me more, then?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Aziraphale took the book in his hands. “About Damerel, the things you found odd about him. You really have got me interested in it now.”</p><p>Crowley swallowed. “Yeah, um, so. The book was kinda doing this thing, right? It was trying to establish this juxtaposition with Damerel and Venetia’s two insufferable suitors.”</p><p>“Denny and Yardley, yes.”</p><p>“Well that Denny person, he also took Venetia in his arms and passionately kissed her, which Venetia evidently didn’t like—even though it wasn’t any different from what Damerel did to her, which she<em> did</em> like. Just kinda sends the wrong message, don’t you think?”</p><p>Aziraphale agreed.</p><p>“And Yardley. The whole point of his character was that he would never take Venetia’s choice into account, never took no for an answer. But right up until the final moments, Damerel didn’t truly honour Venetia’s own choices either.”</p><p>Aziraphale grew solemn, a heavy weight pulling him down into his seat. Crowley had gotten him to do what he never thought would be possible for him—to question the ideas he had held firm about the proceedings of the novels he had long cherished.</p><p>He licked his lips, suddenly dry, looked down at his fingernails and mumbled, “I feel rather silly now for liking it.”</p><p>At this, Crowley’s expression went somersaulting from light amusement to fear and finally, to deep worry.</p><p>“No, Zira, come on. I didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep on liking it,” he blurted out. “You’re very unapologetic about what you like and it’s nice to see.”</p><p>“Really?” asked Aziraphale, confused.</p><p>“Yeah. You wear your heart on your sleeve, d’you know that?”</p><p>“I’m not sure I do.”</p><p>“Well, you do. You say what’s on your mind and talk about it for hours, and even when you don’t talk, everything you feel can easily be read off of you. And you shouldn’t change that just because sometimes I don’t agree with you.” Crowley’s grin could be described almost as fond. “I like that you’re like that.”</p><p>“You enjoy disagreeing with me.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.” Crowley pushed the book towards him on the table, nudging until it touched Aziraphale’s fingertips. Their hands rested on the cover, not quite reaching. “I’m just not entirely convinced their marriage will be happy, and it’s hardly what I’d call a good romance. But I’m not gonna ridicule you for liking it, alright?”</p><p>He appreciated it, but it was a bit jarring, to say the least. After all, if the flowery professions and scandalous behaviours from novels were not how romance ought to be, then what exactly constituted a<em> proper </em>romance? How did one go about pursuing a romantic interest?</p><p>“You have given me much to think about.”</p><p>Crowley scoffed. “You and me both. Wanna go for a walk?”</p><p>They got up and prepared to leave. Crowley was just putting his jacket back on when Aziraphale’s eyes were drawn to a bottom-shaped damp spot on Crowley’s vacated seat.</p><p>“Crowley, you—are you still in your swim trunks?” </p><p>His friend began stammering wildly, his jaw opening and closing with the effort of producing all things barely comprehensible. </p><p>“Don’t know what you mean, that-that was there when we got here.”</p><p>“You <em>did</em> leave in the middle of training! Why did you do that?”</p><p>Aziraphale felt more than saw him roll his eyes. “Are we gonna go or what?”</p><p>It was probably the mortification of having been found out that led Crowley to stride past him and bound out of the door in a matter of seconds without a look back at him, fully expecting Aziraphale to follow. </p><p>Aziraphale, however, found himself quite stuck, perplexed as a flurry of other warm <em>feelings</em> blossomed deep within his chest. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Their usual spot, on nearly all their walks, was the duck pond at the center of campus. Aziraphale liked to come here alone, silently feeding the ducks and thinking, but being here with Crowley was really nice, too.</p><p>Crowley sat beside him on the bench, his long legs stretched all the way and perched by the heel perfectly orthogonal to the ground.</p><p>“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” said Aziraphale excitedly as he brought his phone out from his pocket. “I got a smartphone!”</p><p>Crowley gave a disbelieving grin. “Look at you, joining us here in the twenty-first century. T’was only a matter of time. You couldn’t keep resuscitating your horrid flip phone forever.”</p><p>Aziraphale huffed. He <em>loved </em>that phone. He had it for years, serving him well such that he felt no need to ever replace it. But an unfortunate accident with a toilet led to its untimely (by his standards, at least) demise.</p><p>His grieving was interrupted by the brush of Crowley’s hand on his. He jumped, wondering why he felt jilted by so small a touch. When he got back control of his whirling head, he saw that Crowley now had his phone and was making faces at it.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>Crowley held the phone close and frowned. “Nah, that wasn’t good. I’ll go again.”</p><p>This time, he grinned wickedly at it. Aziraphale saw his face mirrored on the screen. Crowley snapped the photo.</p><p>“There,” he said, tapping furiously at the screen. “I have a photo saved in your contacts. When I call, you’ll know instantly that it’s me.”</p><p><em>But is that not already the purpose of caller ID?</em> Aziraphale thought, but judged it best not to voice it out loud. Such things were beyond him, but they were harmless. Crowley handed him back his phone, the tips of his fingers sliding over Crowley’s knuckles in the exchange, and the warm<em> feelings</em> were back. </p><p>Aziraphale could do nothing but blink away his confusion and smile against an odd lithostatic pressure exerted on his chest. <em>Odd, but not unpleasant. </em></p><p>“Zira?” Crowley’s rumbling voice broke through his musings, shattering an image that was struggling to form.</p><p>“Yes, Crowley?”</p><p>“Are you…” Crowley cleared his throat, muddling his way through speech and making Aziraphale wonder what it was about what he wanted to say that made him doubt whether he should say it. His heart, usually making valiant but negligible efforts to keep his circulation going, suddenly took center stage. </p><p>“Am I what, dear?”</p><p>Crowley took a deep breath and seemed to have come to a decision. He gave small laugh though there was no humour to be found.</p><p>“I hope you’re feeling better now.”</p><p>With the energy of a tidal wave eating dust off the shore, Aziraphale found he couldn’t even remember what it was that upset him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>My cherie amour, lovely as a summer day</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My cherie amour, distant as the milky way…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Some days after, they found themselves queueing at Aziraphale’s favorite coffeeshop, the blasted words of Stevie Wonder ringing in the air from the crappy speakers. In the middle of afternoons, Aziraphale often felt the exhaustion that compelled him to get some sort of relaxing drink. His job at the labs seemed to be seeping the strength out of him each time. On more than one occasion, Aziraphale would go home after work and sigh the soreness out of his muscles, probably from sitting at a desk for so long a time. <em>Totally understandable</em>, thought Crowley. Looking over piles of research papers and scanning them for errors must be the drollest task anyone had ever been paid to do. </p><p>Crowley, his hands shoved in his pockets, glanced at Aziraphale standing beside him.</p><p>“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Why does your smartphone still have the default wallpaper?”</p><p>Aziraphale, who had retrieved his phone from his bag in order to check the time, paused self-consciously. </p><p>“I don’t really see what one is supposed to do with these things, and the current one does the job nicely enough. Am I doing it wrong? What is it <em>supposed</em> to be?”</p><p>Here, Crowley paused to consider his answer. “Well, they’re supposed to be something personal to you. Here, look at mine—”</p><p>He waved his own phone towards Aziraphale, showing him a lock screen of a Queen album cover. Aziraphale hummed in understanding.</p><p>“It’s what you’ll see each time you open your screen, see?” continued Crowley, coolly tucking his phone back in his pocket. “So it has to be something that makes you happy each time you see it.”</p><p>“I suppose that makes sense,” replied Aziraphale, seemingly deep in thought, and the conversation was left at that.</p><p>“I’ve done it, by the way,” said Crowley after a few seconds of companionable silence. </p><p>Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Done what?”</p><p>Crowley grinned proudly. “I’m all caught up.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. He bounced excitedly on his toes. “You fiend! You never told me you’ve even started!”</p><p>“Didn’t want there to be any pressure,” Crowley replied, shrugging. “I prefer to watch stuff on my own pace. Especially with a show as massive as that.”</p><p>Aziraphale just about glowed with joy. They moved a step up in the queue. “So, how was it? Who’s your favorite Doctor? No, wait—let me guess!”</p><p>Crowley couldn’t resist giving a fond smile. The conversation about Damerel had been illuminating. He no longer held his crush like a torch that was… well, flaming like anything. Instead, he felt now that he understood Aziraphale, and the contrast between their takes on the constituents of romance, much better. And he figured he could do it, ease his presence into Aziraphale’s heart. And whether that came to a fruitful outcome or not, he would never regret the friendship they had formed.</p><p>See how our dear Crowley has matured from his penis sheath days? He was very proud. He now had the wisdom of a 6,000-year old immortal being.</p><p>“It’s Ten, isn’t it?” Said Aziraphale, drilling him with those perfectly blue eyes. “He has amazing charm and energy.”</p><p>Crowley tipped his chin. “<em>Ten?</em>” He said, face all scrunched in disbelief. “Thought you knew me better than that, Zira.”</p><p>Aziraphale huffed, disappointed. “I was so certain!” His eyes darted around the room and Crowley couldn’t resist laughing. He looked like he was about to have an identity crisis. “Who is it then?”</p><p>“Twelve, <em>obviously.</em>”</p><p>“Ah.” Aziraphale let it sink in for a moment, then frowned. “I never would’ve thought it.”</p><p>“Magnificent dark suit? Frustrated rockstar getup? Do you know me at <em>all?</em>”</p><p>“Apparently not.” His lips pursed into that pout that Crowley always found adorable. He defiantly looked away from Crowley. “But at least now you can keep up with my amazing Dalek jokes.”</p><p>“I think we need to recalibrate your definition of amazing, angel.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In the café, or sometimes on a crowded street</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ve been near you, but you never noticed me…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A blush crept up the back of Aziraphale’s neck. He glanced nervously at Crowley. “What… did you just call me?”</p><p>Ohshitohshitohshit. </p><p>“…Nirrthing!” Crowley resolutely did not look at him. He brought his hands out from his pockets and gestured wildly toward the menu boards. “What did you say you wanted to order again?”</p><p>“Did you just call me ‘angel’?”</p><p>“Right, one large hot cocoa. Go grab us some seats, will you? It’s getting crowded in here!”</p><p>“Crowley, we’re getting takeout.”</p><p>“I <em>KNOW!</em>” The sound of his own yelling shocked him, but apparently not Aziraphale, who implored him with unyielding resolve.</p><p>“Fine, if you won’t tell me.” That stupid pout was back on his face and Crowley couldn’t bear to look at it. “Always so defensive, you are. It’s not like I <em>mind</em>. Just wanted to know why.”</p><p>“Errrghh, you - you just are!” Crowley stammered.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Pretty little one that I adore</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re the only girl my heart beats for…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How I wish that you were mine—</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THIS BLOODY SONG?” </p><p>“I said I didn’t mind!” Aziraphale rushed to reply, hooking his hand in Crowley’s elbow. Crowley took a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t mean to tease you about it.”</p><p>Crowley couldn’t figure out in which dimension he was even in. “Okay. I’m good.”</p><p>“Really, my dear.” The endearment that made his heart stutter. Every. Fucking. Time. But knowing how good natured Aziraphale was, he probably said it to the bagger at Tesco as well. “It’s okay if you keep doing it. That is, if you want to keep doing it.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s hand slid down his arm, gave his hand a warm squeeze. Crowley nodded, his mind blissfully blanked by the topography of the angel’s palm on his. His hand was so warm and solid. Plush and sturdy and all-encompassing.</p><p>He glanced at Crowley, shot him a heart-rending smile, and released his hand as they finally went up to the counter and placed their orders.</p><p>What were they about to do again after this? Crowley had no idea. He didn’t even feel like he was walking at all when they exited the shop.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>The next day, Crowley walked with Aziraphale to his job at one of the natural science labs. It was a fine day, and Crowley nearly stumbled on the pavement when beside him, Aziraphale took out his phone to check the time, and he saw his own face on Aziraphale’s lock screen. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hehe hope you enjoyed this chapter! And to those who were following me on twitter when I made that fic thread with Crowley teaching Aziraphale about phone wallpapers and asked for a full fic, well, here it is!!! &lt;3 </p><p>Again, I talk a lot about this fic on twitter so you might find it very entertaining to follow @angelsnuffbox</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bombs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for 100 kudos oh my!! I'm extremely grateful for each and every one of you who are reading and enjoying this little thing &lt;3</p><p>Disclaimer: Now that we're getting into the meatier plot-y things in this fic, I'd just like to say that although Aziraphale is ace-spectrum here, I am not at all claiming that all ace people experience attraction in the exact way that he does. There's a lot of variety involved, and his experience is mostly based on my own experience as a demisexual who was in a long-term relationship with an allosexual back in uni. Just because you don't feel the same levels or combination of sexual/romantic attraction as he does in here doesn't automatically mean you aren't ace! You are so very valid and so very loved. </p><p>That's it and enjoy reading the story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That’s him, right? The one with the red hair?”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“Oh, he is <em> fit</em>. You weren’t kidding.”</p><p>“He’s also off limits, Amanda. I called dibs on him months ago.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale perched himself on the edge of the bleachers, twiddling his thumbs and looking out over at the expanse of the swimming pool before him. Freestyle was the next category, and Crowley had been anxiously and frustratingly perfecting his technique for weeks—today was finally the big day. The way Aziraphale’s heart hammered as though it were about to crack open his sternum made him feel like <em> he </em> was the one about to compete. On the other hand, <em> Crowley </em> had no reason to be nervous. Aziraphale was given to understand that he was fastest ‘front crawler’ in the team, earning him the interesting moniker of <em> the Serpent</em>, so surely he would do very well. </p><p>Despite that, when Crowley stepped out to the pool’s edge, pulled his shirt up over his head and placed a cap over his ears, Aziraphale’s blood pressure spiked all the way up.</p><p>“But I thought he doesn’t, you know, <em> swim for your team? </em>” </p><p>The chattering of a group of girls behind Aziraphale was rather distracting and did not at all help to calm his nerves, but their conversation carried out loud and clear to unintended recipients, so he had no choice but to hear and listen.</p><p>But wait—the one with the red hair? Were they perhaps talking about Crowley? Aziraphale recalled all the remarks he’d heard from them and supposed there to be some merit in it. After all, Crowley <em> was </em> very nice to look at. It was hardly any surprise that he would have admirers.</p><p>“Do you think I’m an idiot, Vanessa? He <em> prefers </em>men, but he’s dated girls before.” There was a pause, during which Aziraphale imagined the two other girls staring in amazement. “And I’m not just any girl. Now that guy from the football team is out of the picture, there’s nothing stopping me.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had never actually watched Crowley compete before, but as his friend seemed to be on edge in preparing for this event, he took a day off from work to show his support. Looking at him now, Aziraphale could barely tell that he was ever worried. Crowley looked right at home on a swimming pool, bouncing actively on his feet and grinning like a madman. He began to do some stretches.</p><p>Almost instantly, sighs broke out from the group behind him.</p><p>“God help us.”</p><p>“He is quite the conquest.” </p><p>“You mean a <em> feast </em>.”</p><p>“Look at his<em> broad </em>shoulders.”</p><p>“And his arms.”</p><p>“I wonder if his back’s as fine as his front—”</p><p>Aziraphale wasn’t entirely certain what they meant by that, and he was slightly concerned about them.</p><p>At that moment, Crowley turned his head and scanned the crowd until he locked eyes with Aziraphale. His face shining with wicked glee, Crowley shot him a devilish wink.</p><p>A fluttering sensation shot up from Aziraphale’s belly. He had gotten accustomed to it now, though. He didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed to happen most whenever he and Crowley would exchange looks as though they were inside jokes, or when Crowley did that peculiar thing with his mouth when he laughed so uncontrollably that his thin lips would disappear into the recesses of his open mouth, exhibiting rows of endearingly slightly crooked teeth. </p><p>And it happened again today when Crowley winked at him.</p><p>Aziraphale let out a giggle and a wobbly wave, his cheeks stinging.</p><p>“Oh my god, Jess, he totally winked at you!”</p><p>“I did tell you I’ll get him. Did you think I couldn’t?”</p><p>“Well, I had my doubts, but now I think he’s half in love with you already!”</p><p>“After this race, I’ll do it. I’ll go up and ask him out.”</p><p>It was at this point that Aziraphale gave up on listening and primly stood up to look for another empty seat.</p><p>The race commenced. With surprising amount of elegance, Crowley leapt off the pool’s edge and soon he was only a peeking head, two toned arms, and splashing droplets of chlorinated water. Crowley looked marvellous. Aziraphale was transfixed by the wave-like movement of his body, treading water front and back and propelling him forward despite all resistance. He looked so <em> focused </em>. It was the most beautiful Aziraphale had ever seen him.</p><p>He got off on a good start, but a couple of others were gaining on him. Aziraphale stifled his gasp with a hand. Cheers erupted from all around him, and soon enough he, too, was yelling Crowley’s name until his throat went raw and wow, was that freeing.</p><p>Crowley was nearly at the end of the route, and with only a few milliseconds to spare, he finished ahead of all the others. It took a moment’s delay for Aziraphale to process what had just happened, but when it finally clicked that Crowley <em> won</em>—his brilliant best friend who trained so hard and wrecked himself with hot compresses and pain relief patches in preparation for this competition—<em>won</em>, Aziraphale was off his seat, tears streaking down his cheeks as though it was his victory as well.</p><p>The other contestants swung off back onto land, resurfacing like the Paleozoic amphibians who had forgotten what it was to suddenly be breathing air instead of lungfuls of water. In contrast, Crowley clambered excitedly over to the side where Coach Beez sat with a stern expression.</p><p>And Aziraphale, his heart still thrumming from joy and sharing this victory with Crowley, leapt down the rows of seating and scampered across the pool grounds towards him.</p><p>“Crowley!”</p><p>The redhead turned to look, and on first recognition, a huge beam broke out on his face. But it didn’t last long and soon was replaced with shock. “Wait, Zira, <em> nonono—! </em>”</p><p>Too late. Aziraphale reached him and took him into his arms.</p><p>“Congratulations!”</p><p>“Are you mad?” Crowley wriggled from his grasp but Aziraphale would not budge. “You couldn’t wait until later? I’m getting your clothes all wet!”</p><p>“That hardly signifies,” said Aziraphale, his arms wound tightly around Crowley’s shoulders. “I am so proud of you.”</p><p>Crowley relaxed into the hold and patted his back. “Thanks, angel. Means a lot.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s large palms were pressed onto Crowley’s bare spine, trickling with rivulets of water. He was cool to the touch, and Aziraphale worried that Crowley might start shivering so he tightened his hug, attempting to smother his friend with a tad more heat—though it seemed that heat was starting to dissipate quickly between both their bodies. </p><p>Aziraphale nearly forgot where they were until he heard the sound of one of Crowley’s teammates talking from somewhere behind them.</p><p>“Look at that. Crowley got himself a new Marcus.”</p><p>Crowley stiffened in his arms and very gently pried Aziraphale off him. </p><p>Now that was… There seemed to be something in the way he reacted. Something odd.</p><p>“Crowley, is everything alright?”</p><p>Crowley, who had been shooting a deathly glare at the person who had spoken, turned to look back at Aziraphale, his features quickly softening. </p><p>“Can you wait for me outside? I know you don’t like crowds. Dinner’s on me tonight.”</p><p>At the prospect of good dinner (and more importantly, <em> free </em> dinner), Aziraphale lit up. “Yes, of course, my dear. Don’t be long.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dinner was a lovely affair. Nothing fancy, of course. They just went out for celebratory pizza, but it was no less enjoyable. Aziraphale had come to find that it hardly mattered where they went, so long as he was with Crowley, he was assured of having a great time.</p><p>“Do you know, it’s really quite amazing what you do.”</p><p>Crowley was in the middle of his sixth slice of pizza. (He rarely consumed such huge portions, but competitions always got him starving.) He glanced up at Aziraphale, his cheeks swollen with cheesy bread. “Huh?”</p><p>“What you did today. I don’t think I can ever learn to do something like that. You’re very good at what you do, Crowley.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Not everyone’s cut out for competing. And you’re better at way more other stuff.”</p><p>There was only a slight departure from their general felicity once they got up from their seats to leave the restaurant. Crowley had been in the middle of ranting about the stupidity of one Bond film he watched recently when he spotted someone by the doors and froze up.</p><p>Aziraphale sensed his discomfort immediately. “What’s wrong, dear?”</p><p>Crowley’s face was a hard and stern mask. “Shit,” he muttered. “What’re they doing here?”</p><p>“Who’s they?”</p><p>At Aziraphale’s inquiry, Crowley seemed to snap back into his senses. He was so often in a jovial or mischievous mood that for Aziraphale to see him all of a sudden like <em> this </em> frightened him a little.</p><p>“Angel,” said Crowley, stepping before Aziraphale in what can almost be described as a protective stance. “There’s some guys by the door and, well, let’s just say they don’t like me. We’re going to walk out of here and ignore them, alright? If they try anything, go and save yourself.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s brows drew deep into a scowl. “What do you mean by—”</p><p>“Now would be a good time to go.” With a hand placed to the small of Aziraphale’s back, Crowley led the way towards the exit.</p><p>Once they got outside, Aziraphale spotted four burly men in football jackets, eyeing both of them warily. Crowley didn’t even look like he saw them, which made Aziraphale double up his efforts to appear just as indifferent.</p><p>At any moment, Aziraphale was expecting one of them to draw out a weapon or to charge suddenly, but no such thing occurred. They held stiff gazes and followed them only with their eyes. When they had gone far enough away, Aziraphale finally dared to speak.</p><p>“Mind telling me what all that was about?” He prodded, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground.</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “It’s nothing. Let’s just say, a long time ago, I screwed up and rattled a few heads—some of them still hold grudges. But it’s fine, I promise. You’re fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”</p><p>Aziraphale wasn’t even the least bit worried about himself. “If there is something I ought to know about, please—”</p><p>“Angel… can we drop it?” Crowley rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “Sorry, I-I don’t want to talk about it right now.”</p><p>Though it was a bit foolish, Aziraphale couldn’t help the sting that went through him. He couldn’t understand why Crowley would want to keep this from him. But Crowley had always been very considerate of his own moments of discomfort. He could at least return the favour this once.<br/><br/></p><p>“Oh. Of course, my dear.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley had accompanied Aziraphale to his job many times before, usually taking him there first before heading off to training himself. Today, however, training ended unnaturally early (some sort of accident with the plumbing that led to some emergency cleaning—Crowley didn’t really know the particulars), and he thought to surprise Aziraphale by picking him up from work and inviting him out for ice cream or something. His plan hadn’t been fully formed yet, he just really wanted to see Aziraphale.</p><p>He turned off towards the corridor containing several labs of the Natural Sciences building and stopped at the one Aziraphale went into. He checked the time—still a half hour before Aziraphale was done with his shift. He could probably keep himself busy with some phone apps or something. With his back leaning on the wall, he began the arduous process of looking like he was busy.</p><p>Just then, footsteps shuffled towards and stopped just before him. He looked up—or rather, down, to find a short middle-aged woman staring openly at him.</p><p>“Excuse me, luv, aren’t you that Crowley fella?”</p><p>Crowley’s brows raised in confusion, but he nodded. “…Yes?”</p><p>“Well what on earth are you doing here? Come on inside!” she opened the door to the lab and allowed him to step through. A wave of lights flooded Crowley’s vision, urging him to squint even behind his sunglasses.</p><p>“Who goes there at this time o’ the night?” a gruff voice yelled out from one of the desks in the corner of the room. </p><p>The lady made a soft giggle. “Oh, Mr. Shadwell! It’s only Crowley! There’s no need to trouble yourself. He’s waiting for Aziraphale.”</p><p>“Sorry, how do you know who I am?” asked Crowley, shifting awkwardly on his feet.</p><p>“I’ve seen you around here coming in with Aziraphale. How sweet of you to also pick him up.”</p><p>Well, that explained it. “I’ve got nothing else going on.”</p><p>The lady gestured towards another set of double doors in the room. “He’s just in through there. Go on, dear, I’m sure he’d love to see you!”</p><p>“Is that really alright?” Crowley had no idea why she was being extra accommodating of him. Crowley didn’t really have any reason to be there. “I don’t want to distract him if he’s busy.” Besides, there didn’t seem to be much excitement in the idea of watching Aziraphale crouched over a computer, typing at a snail’s pace with dainty-looking fingers.</p><p>“Now don’t be ridiculous.” She beckoned him over to the door. With a sharp-nailed hand, she pushed it open to reveal another room, spanning wide and dimmed by its relative emptiness. A peculiar scent hung in the air, earthy and dusty—like heavy downpour on hot, long-droughted ground. What the…</p><p>“Yoo-hoo! Aziraphale! Your handsome man’s come here to see you!”</p><p>Crowley tripped over a table leg that was shoved not quite well into the wall. His hand flailed out, grasping at anything to prevent his falling forwards. At last it did latch onto something—a giant blob of rock with a surface filled with minuscule glassy spikes. </p><p>“YOWCH!” He held back his palm, now marred with tiny dotted indents and frowned hotly at it. “What the hell!”</p><p>“Oh, do mind the bombs, luv,” said the lady, launching into a fit of giggles. Crowley squeaked. <em> What bombs?! </em></p><p>At last, Aziraphale came into view, his hands occupied with holding a large crate. </p><p>“Crowley!” </p><p>Every single nerve ending in Crowley’s body lit aflame at the sound of Aziraphale saying his name with completely unabashed delight. Ugh. How could he <em> not </em> be affected by this fussy angel? </p><p>The lady chose that moment to finally leave the room. The door was shut, and it was just him and Aziraphale and—Crowley briskly scanned the room—tons and tons of <em> rocks</em>. </p><p>“I didn’t know you were coming.”</p><p>Crowley was still trying to make everything make sense, though he did manage to reply. “Training was canceled. Was hoping we could get dinner.”</p><p>Aziraphale beamed. “Absolutely! I was just about to finish up.”</p><p>But Crowley still had one more question. “Aziraphale, <em> who </em> was that lady?”</p><p>Aziraphale went completely still, his face going beet red. Oh boy, Crowley had never seen him look this flustered.</p><p>“T-that was Madame Tracy, our records keeper.” Then, after a moment’s silence, he added: “Did she say anything odd to you? I’m very sorry, it’s all a misunderstanding—”</p><p>“What is? And she didn’t say anything bad, just wondering how she knew me, is all.”</p><p>Aziraphale pressed his lips together firmly. “Well, if you must know, she’s seen you occasionally walking with me to here and one day she asked me about you and so I told her.”</p><p>“What did you tell her about me exactly?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose… I was just being honest!” The angel’s voice rose a pitch higher, his mouth drawing into a pout. “Please, Crowley, you have to know I never told her anything that wasn’t the truth but she, ah, has everything misconstrued, because now she, along with all the other people in this department, seem to think that you… that we are, ah…”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“<em>Everyoneherethinksyou’remyboyfriend</em>.” Aziraphale let out in one breath.</p><p>Crowley blinked. “Neat.” His chest was depressurizing.</p><p>“Sorry,” Aziraphale offered an apologetic smile. “I keep trying to tell them that you are my friend, but it seems they’re too far gone on it. Do you mind?”</p><p>“I don’t mind.” It was true. He really didn’t.</p><p>“Well I am relieved”. Aziraphale looked away, placing the crate that he was holding on a nearby table, sending a spatter of rock dust into the air. “Now let me just finish up here and we can go. Oh, and welcome to the rock storage lab!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'll leave it to yall to figure out what happens to 'Jess' after this because we are never hearing from her again. Good riddance. </p><p>If you got the 'bombs' joke ayyyy hello to my fellow earth scientist peeps ;* </p><p>Please let me know what you think of this chapter! It's such a joy seeing everyone react to these two walking disasters and all your frustrations at how oblivious Aziraphale is just gives me life :))</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Jurassic Joke</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bit of a filler chapter here, but we do get a little bit of backstory!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Good. Now let me just finish up here and we can go. Oh, and welcome to the rock storage lab!”</p><p>And here was the other mystery. Crowley had always assumed that the angel was working on duties of greater academic significance like analyzing slides under the microscope or proofreading journal articles meant for submission to peer review or some stuff like that. As it turned out, Aziraphale’s job was to carry rocks.</p><p>Loads and loads of it.</p><p>Like, <em> shit </em>loads of it.</p><p>They were surrounded by a mountain of crates masking all but one wall of the room. The rest of the space was taken up by rows of shelving. The whole place might have been mistaken for a library, were it not for the complete absence of its most essential component. In lieu of books, rocks were stored in shelving following some system that was beyond Crowley’s level of comprehension. The amount of rock dust in the room made it hard to breathe, and there was still that annoying musky scent clinging to his nose. He chanced a look at Aziraphale, whose soft and bubbly countenance in no way fit in with the scenery.</p><p>Unless Aziraphale was purposely trying to look like some sort of rock librarian.</p><p>He also realized belatedly, that Anathema probably owed him.</p><p>“Sorry about the mess,” Aziraphale said shyly.</p><p>“So lemme get this straight,” started Crowley, speaking slowly. “You take the rocks in those crates,” he pointed a finger to one side of the room, the general area where the stacks of storage boxes are, “and sort them to their proper shelving space, wherever that may be.”</p><p>“That is the gist of it, yes.”</p><p>“Oh, there’s <em> more? </em>” drawled Crowley. “Do tell.”</p><p>“Well, sometimes the rocks would be too large to fit into the shelves, so I use this—” here Aziraphale stopped and produced a gleaming rock hammer from behind his back. Crowley jumped back abruptly. “To pound the samples into proper sizes.” </p><p>“You’ve got to be kidding me. All this time I thought you were up in your elbows in drab research papers or something! They are wasting you, angel.”</p><p>Aziraphale shrugged, dropping the hammer onto the nearest dust-speckled table and taking another crate in his arms. “I suppose this isn’t exactly what I had hoped. But things will surely turn around once I start grad school.”</p><p>“You’re going to grad school?” He asked and, figuring he may as well make himself useful, turned towards one of the other crates too.</p><p>His friend nodded, eyes busy scouring through the selection of rocks inside the crate he held. “I’ve a great inclination, as well as recommendation from several professors, to get into the PhD program.”</p><p>Crowley thought that the concept of being Dr. Aziraphale Fell really suited him. He took one of the plastic crates from another pile. With an exhausting heave, he put its weight to his forearms. In a split-second of intense concentration, it occurred to him that this was far too heavy for his wiry arms to carry, and the whole damn thing clattered to the ground with a sound akin to a crisp gunshot.</p><p>Aziraphale was beside him in a flash. “Crowley! Are you hurt?”</p><p>He shook his head, attempting to play it cool. He bent down to pick up the contents, each a hunk of grayish and blackish stone as large as a person’s head. “M’fine.”</p><p>Aziraphale stooped down to help him. With a short inspection of the materials, he frowned. “Oh, my dear. You’ve taken a crate belonging to the volcanology chaps. Pyroclastics can be extremely heavy! You should be more careful.” </p><p>Crowley resisted the urge to retort. How the heck was he supposed to know what kind of rocks were in any of these? They’re ROCKS. How different could they be?</p><p>They finished cleaning up the mess. Aziraphale took the crate, together with all its contents, up into his arms with little trouble and transferred it seamlessly next to the first box on the table. Crowley refused to acknowledge whether what he felt was more awe or shame. </p><p>But more than anything, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.</p><p>Aziraphale strode over to the other side of the room where a stack of yellow crates was piled up, their exteriors labeled with different dates. He beckoned Crowley to come closer. “If you want to help, you should stick to these.”</p><p>Crowley took one in his arms, surprised at seeing that it was just as full as the previous one he’d tried to lift, but nowhere near as heavy. These rocks were tinged gray on one surface, and a pure sandy white underneath.</p><p>“These are much lighter. I work with these rocks most of the time. They’re likely to contain a lot of microfossils.” A proud look crossed over the angel’s features.</p><p>Crowley shot him a goofy smile. “All you need now is a hat and whip.”</p><p>Aziraphale smacked his arm. “Indiana Jones is an archaeologist, not a paleontologist!”</p><p>“All the same.”</p><p>“No they are<em> not </em>! Crowley, I will murder you—”</p><p>He burst into a fit of cackles, cut short by the inhalation of rock dust inducing him to cough instead. Aziraphale just stood there, glaring at him. </p><p>“If you are quite done,” said Aziraphale with an air of pompousness, “those are to be taken to shelves 29 and 30.”</p><p>The box was beginning to press heavily onto his forearms. He brought up his knee to jostle it back up. “Be right back, angel,” he said, winking. He set off to shelve the contents.</p><p>They worked in silence for about half an hour, Crowley pondering on the things he’d just learned about Aziraphale. Unable to hold it in any longer, he followed the angel to the aisle space between shelves 45 and 47 and said, “Hey, angel?”</p><p>Aziraphale started at the sound of his voice, his shoulders jolting straight up. “Crowley!” He gasped. </p><p>“You never told me why you chose paleontology.”</p><p>At this, Aziraphale began to look genuinely cross. “Don’t laugh, alright? It’s very silly.”</p><p>“I promise not to laugh,” said Crowley sincerely.</p><p>“Have you perhaps heard of a Dr. Gabriel Fell?”</p><p>Crowley racked his brains. The name did sound a bit familiar. “Wasn’t he the one that wrote those self-help books that all European housewives were suddenly shitting themselves over in 2018?”</p><p>Aziraphale cringed. “Yeah, he’s my brother.”</p><p>Crowley’s eyes bugged out of his head. “No way.” This was<em> precious </em> information. He held back his laughter.</p><p>Aziraphale nodded sadly. “And he didn’t just write self-help books. A lot of them were about Christianity and how to live a pure life in an impure world and all that.”</p><p>“Sounds like a hell of a family reunion.”</p><p>“God, no! I can’t stand him!” Aziraphale’s tone had risen up so quickly that Crowley could feel the anger to be almost tangible from where he stood. “Growing up, he was the golden boy. Our parents always wished me to be more like him.”</p><p>“Ghastly business, that is.”</p><p>“Glad you agree. Every one else is just crazy about him. To them, Gabriel can do nothing wrong. And they were always strict about it, you know? The whole <em> religion </em> thing. One time we were gathered around the telly showing a documentary about dinosaurs, and they went on and on about how it’s all just a big joke.”</p><p>A wicked grin crept onto Crowley’s face. “You <em> bastard, </em>” he said fondly.</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes in response. “Say what you will, but it <em> worked. </em> They’re all too uncomfortable to talk to me now.”</p><p>They stood close, and Crowley looked his fill of Aziraphale—really <em> seeing </em> him now, who he was, what his ideals were, and each and every way he took what life gave him to follow and proceeded to bend them to his will.</p><p>God damn it, he was so fucking <em> sexy </em>. Crowley couldn’t recall a single moment when he was more attracted to him. Not for the first time, he began to wonder what it would be like to kiss him.</p><p>If this were any other person, Crowley wouldn’t even be thinking too hard about it. But this was <em> Aziraphale </em>—gorgeous, brilliant, funny, and interesting, and probably had never been kissed by anyone before. It would almost be like tainting him somehow.</p><p>That’s just how Aziraphale was. Untouched because he was untouchable. Unseen because there was not a single person worthy of looking at him.</p><p>Crowley shouldn’t even be having these thoughts. Aziraphale was the kind of person who seemed not to seek out physical or sexual intimacy, who felt none of the urges held by Crowley’s usual lot. Thus, over the course of their friendship, and with the speed in which it moved <em> (creeping slowly, then in rapid accumulation) </em>, Crowley had grown resigned to the fact that he might never be able to know how it felt to kiss Aziraphale. </p><p>But that didn’t mean he never thought about it.</p><p>And especially now, with the two of them standing so close to each other, Crowley leaning in slightly and Aziraphale not pulling away, like he didn’t mind closing the distance either. To him, it was probably just Crowley’s usual languid posture at work. To Crowley, however, it was torment by a pair of plush, pink lips hovering inches away from his own.</p><p>“Crowley, can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Anything, angel.”</p><p>“Who is Marcus?”</p><p>Crowley froze up, the spell having been broken. He pondered for a couple of seconds whether to keep quiet, tell him the truth, or just come up with a bold-faced lie. But Aziraphale was so damn close, looking at him with beautiful lash-framed orbs of light for eyes, and when had he ever been in a position to  deny Aziraphale anything?</p><p>So, before he could think <em> too </em> hard, his mouth made the final decision to run with it. “We used to fuck.”</p><p>Aziraphale didn’t look surprised. Almost as if that was the exact answer he’d been expecting. “He’s your ex, then.”</p><p>“Not exactly.” Crowley sighed. He’d never talked about this with anyone but Anathema before. His mouth struggled to form words that would accurately describe what actually happened. “We were never… that is, we weren’t official or anything. And at the very start I told him I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and he said he was onboard. So that went on for<em> … a while </em>.”</p><p>“Oh." Crowley listened for any hint of disgust or disdain in his tone but found only a keen interest. “What happened? Where is he now and why have I never met him?”</p><p>Here, Crowley had to steel himself. The last thing he wanted was for Aziraphale to hate him, but while he was riding on the vein of truth, he should see it through to its end.</p><p>“About half a year ago, he told me he didn’t want it anymore. What we had—what we were doing. He said he wanted a real—a relationship, that is.”</p><p>“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale gasped. “He fell in love with you.”</p><p>Crowley gnashed his teeth. “Suppose so. But I… I didn’t—I never felt that way about him. Never even considered it.”</p><p>“You didn’t think that maybe you would reciprocate eventually?”</p><p>Crowley stared hard at Aziraphale. “At the time, I knew it to be impossible.”</p><p>He heard Aziraphale’s breathing hitch. “And what about now?”</p><p>“Now I’m even more sure of it.” <em> I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. </em></p><p>Crowley felt slightly sick.</p><p>“Where is he now?” asked Aziraphale.</p><p>“Well, I apologized, told him I couldn’t give him what he was asking, and that it wouldn’t be wise to continue what we were doing, and he… He sort of went into this downward spiral—I dunno. He just, stopped attending classes, missed all his trainings and stuff. He was a rising player for the football team, expected to be Captain someday. But it got really bad—I had no idea what was even happening until I heard from the guys in the team that he just up and left. Dropped out of uni in the middle of the season.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s expression crumbled. “Oh, poor thing.”</p><p>“It devastated the team’s performance. I’ve been a target with the football players ever since.”</p><p>“But, Crowley, there could have been other reasons for his sudden departure.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “That didn’t matter. Far as they were concerned, I broke his heart and it was all my fault. I can’t… exactly disagree. I’m at least partly responsible.”</p><p>“No,” said Aziraphale firmly. “Crowley, you can’t possibly be beating yourself up over this. You couldn’t have known what he was going through, and though you did break his heart, you made it clear to him what you were promising in the first place. We cannot control who does and does not tickle our heart’s fancies.”</p><p>“Do you mean that? You don’t hate me?”</p><p>“My dear, I have neither reason nor wish to do anything of the sort.” With a fretting eyebrow, he added: “But I do hope he is alright, wherever he is.”</p><p>“Anathema's sort of friends with his sister. Heard he's doing much better now."</p><p>“Oh, well that’s a relief,” said Aziraphale, a kind smile lighting up his features. “His heart will heal in time. You wily serpent, how used to breaking hearts are you, really?”</p><p>“Dunno. I’m very used to broken hearts.” He’d only been carrying one for a little under two years now. </p><p>Aziraphale gave a small laugh. “Yes, I rather think you would be.”</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe you guys still aren’t dating.”</p><p>Crowley shot Anathema a deathly glare. They were at the steps in front of the Natural Sciences building, where Aziraphale had told Crowley to wait for him.</p><p>Crowley shoved his hands in the pockets of his thick dark hoodie, groaning. “Fuck off.”</p><p>“You’ve loved him for like, what? A hundred years now?” </p><p>“Look, just because you’re in a long term relationship with the guy you snogged at your first high school party doesn’t give you the right to judge <em> my </em>exploits.” </p><p>“You barely even have any.” He made a childish face at her, earning him a look of Pure Judgment. “You haven’t been screwing anyone ever since you two became friends, and I rarely see you with anyone else now. D’you know what a miracle it is to<em> not </em>find you with your tongue down someone else’s throat?” </p><p>“Ha-ha.”</p><p>“You’re very transparent, Crowley. You’re the least committed person I know, and here you are pledging fidelity to someone you’re not even going out with.”</p><p>“I’m not.” Crowley decidedly did not pout. He would not. “Can’t be that pathetic.”</p><p>“Just ask him out.”</p><p>She made it all sound so simple. Aziraphale wasn’t simple. </p><p>“It’s not like that,” he replied, keeping his voice toneless. “We’re best friends. He doesn’t like me like<em> that </em>.” </p><p>“Uh-huh,” said Anathema, looking down at her well-manicured nails.</p><p>“It’s true!” Crowley squeaked. What part of this was so difficult for her to understand? “He might not even be into all that stuff. Told me so himself, even.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“<em> Yesss </em> , Anathema, I am sure.” Crowley launched off into a rant with little prompting. “He said he never felt the need to go do the dating and-and the <em> relationship </em> thing. Sex is definitely out of the question—and isn’t that just a spike of luck as it happens to be the <em> only </em> thing I’m good at. So yeah. Laugh all you want, sure, I've fucked around with others, but not Aziraphale. Anyone but Aziraphale. He never even looked at me.”</p><p>“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions here? Just because Aziraphale's never thought about dating doesn’t mean he’d be averse to the idea of it. It’s like you said, he has no experience in that area, so it probably just never occurred to him. You should talk to him about it.”</p><p>“Are you serious? That’s the worst idea ever. <em> Ever </em>.” </p><p>“All I’m saying is that you’ll never actually know what he thinks of a relationship with you unless you<em> ask </em> him. Yes, there’s a chance that he’ll reject you, but if you don’t ask him then you’ll never know if you even <em> had </em> a chance.” </p><p>Damn Anathema and her insights and her <em> common sense </em>. How sickening.</p><p>“<em> Crowley! </em>” The familiar voice rang from up the steps as Aziraphale skipped down to where they stood. Crowley had never heard his name spoken with so much joy. Aziraphale bounded up to his side, his palm hooking onto Crowley’s elbow. “Thanks so much for waiting, my dear. I’m feeling quite peckish, can we grab some food first? Oh! Hello, Anathema.” </p><p>“Hi there,” she greeted, smirking up at Crowley. Crowley had on a murderous look, daring her to say a word about it. “Enjoy your movie date, you lovebirds!” With one last cheeky look at the two of them, she bounced off the stairs and disappeared from view.</p><p>Crowley devolved into a pile of goo. His neck was flaming so hard and he looked at anywhere but Aziraphale. Anathema timed her disappearance well. He was so going to have a word with her.</p><p>“We will!” Aziraphale called out after her, beaming. Crowley felt like slapping himself with a slate, but then he felt his arm being tugged and all the rest of the world disappeared. The angel looked up at him with those dumb eyes of his. “I’m oddly craving for ice cream.”</p><p>That was not a remark. That was a demand.</p><p>“Right then. Let’s go,” Crowley said, leading him off in the direction of the bus stop. In the midst of the movement, Aziraphale’s hand slid down his forearm, and Crowley suddenly feared that gravitational force might take effect. He bent his arm at the elbow, urging Aziraphale’s hand to settle into a more natural position at the crook of it, and there it remained for the duration of their walk, with Crowley’s mind deformed at all angles and lost to thought as the angel continued to talk of meaningless things.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can you believe we're halfway through this fic now? Thanks so much for sticking around! Please leave some love in the kudos and comments section ilysm &lt;3</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Crashing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Updating this a day earlier than scheduled! I hope you like this next chapter! Fair warning, this one gets a little trope-y but what the heck Im doing it lmao</p><p>-</p><p>I updated this chapter to include adorable coffee angel art by @foolishprncplty because I'm so touched and amazed at how soft and accurate it is to how I imagined the scene !!! Excuse me now while I cry over how beautiful our precious Angel is 😭😭</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em>One last note: <a href="https://twitter.com/foolishprncplty/status/1315291781336985601">Please check out this amazing artwork done by @foolishprncplty based on the previous chapter!</a> Aaa I'm still super giddy about it! Smitten Crowley wanting to get crushed by his crush we love to see it :)</em>
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<hr/><p> </p><p>The most annoying thing about Crowley’s one-sided crush on Aziraphale was how immeasurably, unquantifiably <em> pretty </em>he was. </p><p>Crowley had taken to late night training, working longer than anyone else on the team and all by his lonesome in the pool. It was arduous business and all to <em> improve his butterfly </em>. Much as they liked to pick on Crowley, Coach Beez had a soft spot for him, he knew, and generally trusted him to take care of things long after everyone else had left.</p><p>It was nearing midnight now. His knees were left creaking from exercise, but he wasn’t ready to head home just yet. Aziraphale was still in the library, upper half sprawled over a stack of reference books and a hand outstretched to a laptop which contained an unfinished word document. He was fast asleep.</p><p>Crowley took the seat next to him. That paper he’d been working on needed to be submitted in about eight hours. He knew how much it meant to Aziraphale, but the angel barely slept even on his regular days. He’d need a few more minutes of shut eye if that paper was to come halfway to decency. </p><p>And Aziraphale, with nifty glasses askew on his face and his phone smooshed up against his cheek as he slept, was so annoyingly, immeasurably pretty. </p><p>The thing was, Crowley had always been the kind of attractive person that people looked at <em> all the time</em>. The one that heads would turn to when entering a room, who was ogled until they’d had their fill, and who’d inspire sinful thoughts until they’d need only a little more tempting (should Crowley choose) to get into bed with him.</p><p>But Aziraphale was the kind of beauty you couldn’t even bear to look at. Crowley’s chest clenched up just by trying. He wasn’t even moving, not making any of those delightful expressions of his, and Crowley was still so utterly and completely gone on him, and he had to wonder how on earth did he get himself into this ridiculous situation.</p><p>It seemed almost a sin to break the image. Carefully, he leaned close to retrieve Aziraphale’s phone from beneath his cheek so he could get a bit comfier. It took some awkward wrangling. Crowley’s fingers brushed the smooth skin of Aziraphale’s upper lip, the angel’s relaxed breaths fanning warmly on his skin. Aziraphale shifted slightly, leaning into the touch before settling in again with a soft sigh.</p><p>Crowley froze, his grip tight on the phone before fully extracting it. It unlocked in his hand, showing him large numbers indicating how late it was, but more importantly, reminding him that those large numbers were still plastered on top of a picture of his own face.</p><p>Crowley’s cheeks heated up quickly. It’d been weeks since Aziraphale changed his wallpaper, and he didn’t really think it would last that long (he was mostly thinking Aziraphale changed it to the only photo he had on this phone at the time). But they had been spending almost all their time together lately, so Crowley knew about the obsession he’d developed over Instagram food blogging <em> (and that sometimes he attempted to take aesthetic shots of food on his own)</em>. If he wanted to, Aziraphale could’ve changed his wallpaper to one of those any time. But it’d been weeks since and Crowley still found his own face staring back at him and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. </p><p>There was a flicker of pride buried in his guts, a sort of feeling he’d learned to suppress but was now making an unwelcome reappearance to come straight at him and yell: <em> ‘I told you so! I told you so!’ </em></p><p>A low grumble slipped past Aziraphale’s lips and he squirmed in his seat. Crowley sat very still, observing as blue-grey eyes shot open and squinted against invasive light.</p><p>“<em> Ugh. </em>” Aziraphale slowly pushed himself up on his seat. “Oh dear, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.”</p><p>His voice was soft and mumbling, slurring words together like a drunk kitten. Crowley couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>“Hey, angel. I see you’ve been working hard.”</p><p>Aziraphale whipped around towards his voice, belatedly registering—and there it was, the look of surprised utter delight every time he saw Crowley. It was way too much, and god damn, he was so <em> gorgeous</em>.</p><p>“Crowley, what’re you doing here? It’s late.”</p><p>“I know. Did you eat already?”</p><p>Aziraphale took on a troubled expression. “No, I haven’t.” He sighed and gestured at his computer. “I cannot seem to finish this and I’m afraid, my dear boy, that I am quite close to losing my mind.”</p><p>Crowley surprised them both when his fingers closed around Aziraphale’s wrist. “Come,” he said before panic could fully set in.</p><p>To his credit, Aziraphale only appeared more tired than surprised. “Where’re we going?”</p><p>Crowley stood up, tugging Aziraphale with him. “I’m not gonna stop you from working. Obviously, we can’t have that. But if you’re gonna keep beating yourself up over this paper, you’ll need energy.”</p><p>“And you have far too much of it,” grumbled the angel, letting himself be pulled up from his seat.</p><p>They left behind the mess of papers and Crowley led him outside the library, crossing over to the vending machine across the street.</p><p>“Crowley, this is hardly necessary…” Aziraphale mumbled and shivered as a gust of cool air swept past them. “And it’s so cold out here.”</p><p>Crowley turned towards him and settled his hands on his shoulders. “Stop grumbling.” He backed the angel onto a bench and sat him down. “Stay there.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked seconds away from curling up on the bench and dozing off again. </p><p>Crowley returned a minute later, sitting languidly beside him. For a moment, Aziraphale could barely process his own surroundings. Crowley slid a pack of nuts onto his hand.</p><p>“Brain food,” he said. “Best when you’re studying.”</p><p>Aziraphale took it wordlessly.</p><p>“And—” Crowley dug into his backpack to retrieve a chocolate bar. “Here. A little bit of sugar to keep you up.”</p><p>Aziraphale took that as well.</p><p>“And lastly—” Crowley handed him a can of coffee, the tin surface a pleasant burn to the skin against the biting chill of the night air. </p><p>“I don’t drink coffee.”</p><p>“I know,” Crowley replied automatically. “You put your hand around it. Keeps you warm. The coffee’s for me, just hand it over when it isn’t hot anymore.”</p><p>Aziraphale took it without further complaint.</p><p>They remained seated there for a couple more minutes, Aziraphale munching on the chocolate bar.</p><p>“I’ll be going home this weekend,” he said after some moments of companionable silence. “Family dinner thing.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“It’s dreadful.”</p><p>“Sorry,” was all Crowley could offer.</p><p>Aziraphale shrugged. “It isn’t your fault.” He finished the chocolate and wrapped both hands around the hot can of coffee. “Thank you.”</p><p>“My pleasure.”</p><p>It was quiet once again, and that moment was disturbed only when Aziraphale took one hand off the can, crossing the distance between them to squeeze Crowley’s clenched hand on top of his own thigh.  </p><p>“I really am quite grateful to have you,” he said casually, staring off somewhere into the distance.</p><p>Crowley didn’t know how to respond, what with his ribs expanding and contracting and all. But he did manage to grasp Aziraphale’s hand and squeeze it back. </p><p>“You’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>
  
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  <a href="https://twitter.com/foolishprncplty/status/1315486514810253314?s=20">
    <em>( - Art by @foolishprncplty on Twitter)</em>
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<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley was once again training in isolation, two nights after, when Aziraphale all of a sudden barged into the room, bouncing off the tips of his toes in excitement.</p><p>“<em>Crowley! </em> Get out of the pool at once, Crowley, you’re not going to believe this!”</p><p>Baffled, Crowley got up off the edge. He barely even had time to grab his towel when Aziraphale came bounding up to him, saying that his paper on Mesozoic microfossils had been looked over by one of his professors and it was so good that they were going to submit it for presentation in an upcoming conference.</p><p>Crowley’s eyes went wide as saucers, his chest filling up with unabashed joy as he pulled Aziraphale by the shoulders and crushed him to his chest. “Angel, I’m beyond proud of you!”</p><p>Aziraphale didn’t seem to care that his entire front side was getting wet. He hugged back, strong arms squeezing Crowley’s torso like a vise. “Thank you. Oh, my dear, I am so happy.”</p><p>When the initial shock had worn off, Crowley’s mind went whirling. This was… This felt good, holding Aziraphale close, the flowery scent of shampoo filling his nose as the angel snuggled up to him. When Aziraphale first hugged him, after winning his race, Crowley had been too drunk on victory to fully register it. But this time, his mind was clear enough to revel in the way each soft curve of Aziraphale slotted into his bony corners. It was contact like he’d never experienced before. Everything just… just fitted… <em> nicely </em> somehow. He wished he didn’t have to let go.</p><p>Too soon, Aziraphale pulled back. He’d initially been on his way home, but he was too excited to wait any longer and only stopped by to tell Crowley the news. </p><p>“I’m happy for you,” said Crowley, and he meant it. Aziraphale worked damn hard on that paper and he deserved all the recognition he could get. But Aziraphale was no longer in his arms and he already missed him. “Take care going home, then.”</p><p>“You too, my dear,” Aziraphale replied, smiling very beautifully. “I’ll see you on Monday.”</p><p>Crowley nodded tightly, remembering that Aziraphale would be going back to his parents’ house for the weekend. What a long weekend it would be. “Right, of course.”</p><p>And just like that, Aziraphale was gone, like he was never even there, and it was only Crowley and the water once again.</p><p>That was until he heard the backdoor creak open and footsteps shuffled into the room, rapidly approaching him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was wearing four layers of clothing and yet he still shivered against the breeze. He curled further up into his padded coat, biting his teeth. It was only then that he registered that his clothes were wet, exacerbating the coolness on his skin.</p><p>How odd that he didn’t notice that beforehand. When Crowley pulled him into a hug, he only felt warm. And even now, just remembering the act was enough for another round of warmth to blossom in his chest. He was grinning.</p><p><em> Crowley. </em> He was simply delightful. He was always there, supporting him and cheering for him. Making him laugh on the good days and consoling him during the not-so-good ones. He <em> liked </em> having him around. Aziraphale was ecstatic about his research, sure, but he could not have gotten this far if Crowley had not been there to help him out.</p><p>And that didn’t seem very fair. Crowley had done so much for him. It would only be proper for Aziraphale to do something in return. The prospect of spending the weekend away from him already put him out of his good mood, and with greater determination he turned back towards the pool to invite Crowley to get dinner with him.</p><p>He bounded back up to the doors, pushing them open with glee, hoping that Crowley could relinquish his training early enough that they could still make it before closing hours. </p><p>The smile was wiped off his face when he got in and saw his best friend, his arms held in place by two familiar-looking burly men <em> (from the football team, he knew now), </em>and a third came up and threw a gut-splitting punch to Crowley’s ribs.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The punch landed hard, knocking all the breath out of Crowley’s lungs. He held off his scream, but the pain thudded through him instantly on impact. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, wheezing. “<em>What the hell--!</em>”</p><p>“If we’ve to keep losin’ games, it’s only fair you do too, asshole.”</p><p>Crowley gritted his teeth. He barely even knew these guys. Anger burned through him, but he was no match for three people who were much larger than him and fueled by rage that ran in veins more dejected than his own.</p><p>“Fuck you,” Crowley spat, his voice low and steady.</p><p>One of them, the one who punched him, snickered. “You wish. It’s the only thing you’re good for, innit?”</p><p>Crowley was struck, but he didn’t have time to come up with a retort. A hand shot out to grab him by the arm, and he was flung off to the edge of a row of bleachers like he weighed nothing at all.</p><p>And then there was Aziraphale.</p><p>“Get away from him!”</p><p>The attackers’ attention was now drawn to the newcomer. Panic settled in Crowley’s chest. “Zira, get the fuck out of there!”</p><p>“Oh, now. You’re the new plaything, aren’t you?” said the attacker, his voice mockingly light. “Crowley’s little flavor of the month. Cute.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s hand curled into a hard fist and decked him straight at the nose with a satisfyingly loud crunch.</p><p>Crowley wasn’t even sure anymore what was happening.</p><p>While the attacker tended to his gushing nose, the other two grabbed Aziraphale by the arms, restraining him. But they apparently undermined the angel’s brute strength as Aziraphale wriggled hard against their grip, wrenching himself away with some effort. </p><p>But one of them had anticipated it, and Aziraphale’s left forearm twisted within a tight grasp. He let out a sharp yelp in pain.</p><p>Crowley stood up on wobbly feet, his breath not quite returned to him yet. In this new state of entropy, Aziraphale locked eyes with Crowley, his face a muddled expression of fear and concern. And with this distraction in place, two pairs of hands shoved into the angel’s side and sent him crashing into the pool.</p><p>They ran off back towards the exit. Crowley followed soon after, running as fast as his feet would carry him, though he wasn’t sure what to do once he’d caught up to them. He was too far away, and they were already slipping past the doors and completing their escape, and it was at this moment that Crowley noted the rhythmless beating sounds of water splashing from the pool.</p><p>His chest turned instantly to ice. He spun back, eyes scanning the water sharply—and saw only a sinking blond head and desperately flailing arms.</p><p>Aziraphale couldn’t swim.</p><p>Without hesitation, his long strides took him off the pool’s edge, diving straight into the water like his life depended on it--perhaps it did.</p><p>It was steady work. He caught him not long after and grabbed him by the shoulder, but Aziraphale was still panicking, clutching and clawing at Crowley like he was climbing him like a ladder, and it wouldn’t do. The motion was weighing them both down. Crowley struggled to remain focused, but the water was his element and Aziraphale was the damn love of his life, and if that didn’t count as motivation he didn’t know what did.</p><p>He heaved Aziraphale up by his arms and used his knee to nudge him into a more horizontal position. It was easier now to buoy him up so that Aziraphale’s nose was kept above the water’s surface. With one arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and the other extended before him, Crowley treaded them both towards the poolside where the metal rungs were in place.</p><p>Crowley put them back into resting position, his arms wound around Aziraphale’s back, doing all the treading for both of them. Aziraphale shook and sputtered against his neck, still clutching onto Crowley’s back.</p><p>“Aziraphale,” Crowley finally spoke, wanting desperately to soothe the trembling angel in his arms. “It’s fine. Just hold onto these bars and climb up—” Crowley began to pull away, but Aziraphale’s fingers dug crescents into Crowley’s back, a sharp whine escaping past his throat.</p><p>Crowley looked down onto his face, into a pair of still terrified blue-grey eyes. </p><p>“Zira, it’s okay,” he said softly. Crowley’s lips pressed to the damp curls on his forehead, again and again and again. “I’m here, angel. You’re not gonna drown. I won’t <em> let you </em> drown. But we need to get you out of the water.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw hung open, his eyes wide with shock, but he nodded and set a hand on one of the rungs. Crowley pushed him up by the waist, and once they were out of danger, Aziraphale heaved and wretched chlorinated water onto the ground while Crowley patted his back.</p><p>“Angel, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gotten yourself into that.” They sat on the ground, Crowley’s hand rubbing up and down his spine.</p><p>Aziraphale wiped his mouth, his face scrunched up in light disgust. The vibrance of his expression, Crowley noted with satisfaction, was gradually returning.</p><p>“Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here.” Aziraphale’s voice was a tad hoarse but otherwise back to normal. “You weren’t kidding when you said the football team hated you.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “If they threw <em> me </em>in the pool I at least would’ve managed.”</p><p>Aziraphale glared at him. “That is not funny.”</p><p>Crowley nodded, feeling small. He wasn’t trying to poke fun at Aziraphale’s evident fear of the water. Plenty of people had that. “Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to make fun of you or—”</p><p>“You could have seriously gotten hurt!”</p><p>Crowley stopped. Even now, when he’d nearly drowned, Aziraphale still thought of others before himself. His hand traveled further up Aziraphale’s back, snaking around his shoulders to pull him to his side. “You’re more important.”</p><p>Aziraphale propped his chin on Crowley’s shoulder, frowning. “That is absolutely untrue. Don’t say such things.”</p><p>“Did they hurt you?” Crowley’s voice was seething again.</p><p>“My arm…” said Aziraphale, bringing up his left forearm which had now swollen to twice its usual size. “I think it’s sprained.”</p><p>“Let’s go take care of that, then.”</p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>But neither of them made any move to get up. Somehow, Aziraphale’s uninjured arm wound up around Crowley’s stomach, and they sat there by the pool’s edge, silently holding onto each other.</p><p>Without anyone else in the room, the pool seemed a harmless force, its still waters making no indication of how close to danger they had been. It was quiet and very cold as droplets dried straight from the surface of their skin. Aziraphale curled up even closer into Crowley’s side, his face buried into his neck—each warm, shaky exhale a silently murmured <em> thank you </em> to Crowley for having just saved his life.</p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have come to the realization that 80% of the comments on this fic is just yalls screaming at Crowley so if you would like to scream at him more go ahead lmaoo</p><p>I'm also on Twitter! @angelsnuffbox</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Free</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Surprise update because I'm so ecstatic about 200 kudos!!! Thank you so so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter which I'm so very excited to finally share with you all !!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Was this a good time?</p><p>Aziraphale truly did not know, but he was going to have to do it eventually. There was no getting around it. Still, he found that something was preventing him from doing it. He didn’t know if it was the gloominess of being back in his childhood home, the throbbing of his injured arm, or the bile lodged in his throat as he took small and steady bites of his chicken pot pie, sinking down his esophagus like they were bullions of metal. </p><p>It was the most comfortable he’d ever been since he got here, so maybe now was as good a time as any.</p><p>He cleared his throat, not that it helped much. Everything still tasted bitter. “I will be presenting my research at a paleontology conference come springtime.” </p><p>The entire table went silent and tense, all eyes trained on Aziraphale, who kept his own gaze on the shattered remains of a dinner he had not a mind to enjoy. He held his breath.</p><p>Across him, Gabriel made a bemused chuckle. “Really, Aziraphale. I can’t imagine why people would go to <em> those </em> kinds of conferences. Everyone knows the Earth is only six thousand years old.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s heart plummeted to his stomach, and he suddenly had a raging headache. Was it too much to ask for his family to support his career choices just <em> once </em>? </p><p>His parents were awfully silent, as they usually were. No one in this damned house dared to question Gabriel.</p><p>A fiery determination rose up in his chest, gaining sudden confidence, because not even <em> he </em> dared to directly answer back to Gabriel.</p><p>“Now you know not everyone agrees with that,” said Aziraphale, his tone laced with an edge of fury he could no longer suppress. “And evolutionary science is well-established—”</p><p>“<em>Science? </em> ” Gabriel scoffed, his lips quirked up in that look he adopted to intimidate Aziraphale. “Look, you know we’ve always… respected your choice of a degree, but it’s hardly any science. Had you chosen something more useful maybe, like a medical degree where you save people’s lives—I’ll thank you very much for your <em> science </em>.”</p><p>By now, Aziraphale had a death grip over his butter knife. He was trembling, struggling to keep his voice level. “Actually, studies on ancient microfauna have proven to be very useful in better predictions of climate behavior. We’ve greatly advanced the methods in recent years and it is amazing now how much we know, how much we’ve already uncovered—”</p><p>“It’s not too late, you know,” Gabriel interjected, obviously not listening to a word he said. “You can go into a seminary, after you finish your degree and satisfy whatever flight of fancy of yours this is.”</p><p>Aziraphale dropped his knife. “Thanks, but no thanks, dear Gabriel. My plans are already quite set.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“As soon as I graduate, I’ll be going into the PhD program.”</p><p>“You’re kidding.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked to their parents, his eyes pleading with them to understand. “I am not <em> kidding</em>. And it would mean a lot to me to have your support.”</p><p>Gabriel was silent as he waited for them to respond.</p><p>Their mother was the only one to speak up, shooting Aziraphale a worried apologetic smile. “Actually, dear, I’m afraid we have to agree with your brother here.”</p><p>Gabriel made a proud smile. “That settles it, then. But we don’t need to be so gloomy—we rarely get together for dinner after all. Right, sunshine?”</p><p>Aziraphale groaned at the mocking pet name, given to him when they were kids. It was torment. <em> Sunshine</em>. He wanted to bite and chew it to pieces and spit it back out. All his life he had never been any match for Gabriel. In everyone’s eyes, <em> Gabriel </em>was the glaring sun that overshadowed him in everything—and he knew it. He said it specifically only to get on Aziraphale’s nerves.</p><p>Dejected, Aziraphale ate the rest of his dinner in silence, not tasting any of it. He retreated immediately to his room and checked his phone.</p><p>Crowley’s smouldering gaze and charming grin lit up his screen, and Aziraphale sighed deeply. Right now, he was far away from his best friend, but even just that small thing was enough to marginally lift his mood. He looked around the room, confirming that nothing would be there to distract him, and he jumped into his bed, cradling his phone in his palm.</p><p>Goodness, Crowley really was a good looking fellow, was he not? His crimson hair, windswept in the photo, made him look so cool and laidback. That’s something Aziraphale always admired about him. Aziraphale was an awkward bumbling mess. He was never <em> cool </em>. Crowley had good cheekbones too, and a sharp jawline. A hint of a dimple on his cheek when he smiled. Aziraphale could almost hear the sound of his laugh and his stomach burst into a flurry of butterflies.</p><p>Aziraphale began to regret ever coming here, but he had hoped that after some time, his family would warm up to his life choices. Aziraphale loved what he did and really believed his research interest could make a difference. Back on campus, he received all encouragement—from his professors, from Miss Tracy, and most of all from Crowley. Crowley may not know the difference between a benthic and planktonic test, but he was the most enthusiastic about whatever it was Aziraphale was working on. He’d been so high on Crowley’s unconditional support that he completely forgot how averse his family had been to it.</p><p>And just like that, his spirits sank all over again. He shut off his phone, placed it on the nightstand, and curled up on his side. Tears sprung from between his lids, streaking down to make puddles on his pillow as soft sobs shook his frame. His phone buzzed a few times during the night, but he paid it no mind.</p><p>From there on, it was only a steady path towards what would become a mercifully dreamless sleep.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley hadn’t heard from Aziraphale all weekend and he was starting to get worried.</p><p>He couldn’t figure out why Aziraphale seemed to be mad at him. The last time they had seen each other was alright enough, with Crowley being almost beaten to a pulp, Aziraphale coming to his rescue, followed with him nearly drowning and all. He knew Aziraphale’s family weren’t of a pleasant sort, though, and could only hope that being forced to spend the weekend with them didn’t lead to anything too awful.</p><p>Monday morning came around, and Crowley made up his mind to head straight to Aziraphale’s apartment so they could ride to campus together. He brought croissants and a cup of warm cocoa. Even so, Aziraphale didn’t so much as give him a smile when he opened the door.</p><p>Something was wrong.</p><p>“You look like crap,” was the very thoughtful thing that Crowley could say to the love of his life. </p><p>Aziraphale looked like he hadn’t slept for a week (which he probably had already done, knowing his usual habits). His lids were dragged down by the weight of his troubled expression. Crowley hated how expressive his face was, but what he hated more was how deeply it affected him.</p><p>“I’m fine,” said Aziraphale, taking the food from him. His arm was still wrapped in some skin-tone strip of bandage, but otherwise it looked like it was healing fine. As long as he didn’t strain it, it should be right and fine in a couple of days. Crowley noted this with silent relief.</p><p>“You don’t look fine.”</p><p>“I had a rough weekend.”</p><p>“<em>That </em> I know.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked at him for a couple more seconds, his face strangely blank. Then, he hurried off to gather his things. Crowley resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get much more information than that.</p><p>They barely even talked on the train ride to campus, but Aziraphale swayed lightly on the packed space where they both stood. With each stop, Aziraphale would lean over and topple unsteadily, his eyes drifting shut then snapping back open. Unable to bear it any longer, Crowley grabbed the side of his head and put it resolutely on his own shoulder. </p><p>“There’s still a few more stops. Get some shut eye for a bit.” </p><p>His heart was hammering in his ribcage but luckily Aziraphale didn’t complain, just went willingly with the motion of Crowley’s hand.</p><p>It was a bit of an awkward position, but Aziraphale was dozing quietly into his neck, so it was pretty fine and dandy for Crowley. Even if he did have to try very very hard to stand <em> very very </em> still, his knuckles turning white from gripping the swinging handle above his head. </p><p>But Crowley apparently focused too hard, because when his mind came to, he realized they had missed their stop.</p><p>Panic rose up in his throat and now his heart pounded for an entirely different reason. <em> Shit shit shit shit </em>. Okay, well, this was a loop line. That wasn’t so bad, right? Eventually the train was going to return to that stop. </p><p><em> Not until after it’s circled half the entire city, doofus</em>.</p><p>Oh god. Aziraphale was gonna kill him if he showed up late to class.</p><p>Crowley did some mental math mentally. He was good at math, surely he could do this, yes? If they got off at the next stop, they could cross the platform and ride two—<em>three(?) </em> stops back to the correct station. Where were they even at now?</p><p>But Aziraphale would be pissed to wake up and find they needed to squeeze themselves into another packed train, all because Crowley had been too much of a dunderhead to get them off at the correct stop--and he already had enough on his plate. Crowley took too much time to decide. Soon enough, the train had completed a semicircle away from their stop and he realized it was too late.</p><p>White fluffy hair tickled his chin as Aziraphale shifted ever so slightly closer to him, and hey, at least that got his heart to stop pounding. In fact, it would appear that it stopped working entirely!</p><p>After some time, Crowley nudged Aziraphale with his elbow. “Zira, we’re off at the next stop.”</p><p>Aziraphale took some time to shake himself awake, glaring confusedly at the glass windows. “I feel… alarmingly well rested.”</p><p>“Thanks. I’ve been told I have good shoulders.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie.</p><p>The doors opened and they stepped off, Aziraphale none the wiser.</p><p>That was until they arrived on campus and Aziraphale decided to check his phone. It dawned on him that he was a full thirty-five minutes late to his first class.</p><p>“Crowley, <em> what the—</em>”</p><p>“Right, was good seeing you, angel! Don’t wanna be late now, bye!”</p><p>Crowley, red-faced, spun on his heel and ran in the direction of his own class, which he was also late to, but he’d made peace with that a while ago. Aziraphale’s hurried steps faded behind him, furious most likely. Even so, he couldn’t help but think it had been worth it, if only to get Aziraphale a few more minutes of well-deserved rest.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Later that day, he sent the angel a text before heading off to the pool.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Coming over later after training, just so you know. Reply if you don’t want to see me.</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, a reply came a few seconds after. Crowley’s heart skipped a beat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>I am working today. I doubt you will find me at home. Good luck with training.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had just entered the pool doors when he read the text, his eyes bugging out of his head. <em> Working? </em> What on earth was the angel on about? He couldn’t go lift all those crates with that shoddy arm of his. Was he torturing himself <em> on purpose</em>? Was he torturing <em> Crowley </em> on purpose?</p><p>“I know that look,” Coach Beez muttered over at him, their eyebrow raised.</p><p>Crowley glared. “Dunno what you mean.”</p><p>“You’re about to skip training again to run after that blond boyfriend of yours.”</p><p>“He’s not my boyfriend.”</p><p>“This is the last time I’m letting you off the hook.”</p><p>Crowley was stunned. “I’ve been working on my butterfly.” </p><p>“Think you need to work on much more than your butterfly,” they said knowingly.</p><p>“Dunno what you mean by that.”</p><p>Coach Beez quirked up a brow and gave him a smirk. “If one punch is all it takes to take you out I suggest you pack up on more protein.”</p><p>“You know about that?!”</p><p>“‘Course I do.” He wanted to ask more questions, but they had already turned their back and was walking away. “I took care of them, don’t worry.”</p><p>Crowley had to take a moment to consider just how frightening his coach was when you were on the wrong side.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He marched down the halls and past the entrance to the lab, shocking Miss Tracy out of the raunchy novel she’d been reading from behind her desk. She jumped up from her seat when Crowley kicked the door shut behind him.</p><p>“Oh! It’s only you, Crowley.” She sighed in relief, hand clutching her heart. “Here to see Aziraphale again, yes?”</p><p>“He’s not supposed to be here.” </p><p>A worried look pressed itself on her features. “I have to agree, but he was so insistent on coming to work today. I told him he shouldn’t be exerting his arm like that, but he wouldn’t be convinced! Dear, you have to talk to him. He’ll probably listen to you.”</p><p>Aziraphale probably won’t—at least not without a fight, but Crowley was flattered that she thought he would, and he nodded. “I’ll head right in, then.”</p><p>He strode confidently into the rock storage lab, the horrid scent of earth and dust filling his nose once again. He was glad to be wearing sunglasses, or some unsavory particulates would’ve probably gotten into his eyes and ruined his grand entrance. </p><p>There was the sound of a crate being dragged along a surface mixed with Aziraphale’s groans.</p><p>He found him by the side of a large wooden table, attempting to balance a box of rocks on his one good forearm, beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face.</p><p>Crowley was in front of him in an instant, plucking the box out of his grasp and setting it back down the table. “Aziraphale, what the blazes are you doing here? Go home!”</p><p>Aziraphale took a couple of seconds to register his presence, then scowled at him. “I did not tell you to come here. I told you I am<em> fine</em>, Crowley.”</p><p>“What happened to you over the weekend?” Crowley demanded now, his voice low. “I wasn’t gonna pry, but if you’re going to keep acting like a petulant<em> idiot </em> then I’m gonna need to know what’s going on.”</p><p>“And why must you be privy to all my affairs?” Aziraphale deflected, his eyes shining with a mix of emotions.</p><p>“I’m worried about you.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask you to worry about me! And I said I am fine!”</p><p>“This isn’t fine, angel. You’re running on three hours of sleep and you’re hurting yourself! You can’t lift these boxes, you’ll only make it worse. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?”</p><p>“Why are you always so!”</p><p>“So what?”</p><p>“Just—<em>so! </em>” Aziraphale groaned loudly, spinning round and walking off in the direction of shelves 26 and 28. Crowley followed closely behind, unable to let him off the hook. </p><p>“Am I being overbearing?” Crowley asked intently. “Annoying, even?”</p><p>“You’re just so—so <em> concerned! </em> ” Aziraphale let out a long and breathy exhale. “When anything happens to me, or when I do something, you’re always just <em> there! </em>” </p><p>“Sorry, I didn’t know I was being annoying.”</p><p>“It’s not that.” Aziraphale sighed and stopped walking, this time turning to face shelf 26 and shifting around some of the rocks on there. “It’s just, sometimes, I wonder if you should remember that, no matter what Miss Tracy thinks, you’re not <em> really </em>my boyfriend.”</p><p>Crowley stopped, growing serious as his hands balled into anxious fists. “Do I need to be your boyfriend to be allowed to worry over you?”</p><p>Aziraphale slammed a grey rock down the corner of the shelf and grumbled, letting out all his frustration, and saying: “I don’t know! Yes!”</p><p>“Let me be your boyfriend then.”</p><p>“Crowley, this isn’t a joke.”</p><p>“I know.” Crowley took hold of his arm—the uninjured one—and stepped close. This time, Aziraphale turned to face him, wide-eyed and disbelieving. Crowley swallowed the anxiety in his throat. “I’m not<em>.</em> <em>Joking</em>.”</p><p>His eyebrows furrowed up, fretting with worry even as Crowley was quite sure that all of time had stopped right at that moment. But he fought the urge to backpedal and run away. He was done with being a coward.</p><p>Aziraphale gasped. “What?”</p><p>“Angel, I like you. <em> Fuck</em>, I’ve liked you since—since anthropology!” He let out a miserable laugh at finally getting this-this <em> thing </em> off his chest, and Aziraphale was giving him a weird look. But on the off chance you didn’t know this about Crowley yet, he couldn’t stop being a trainwreck once he had begun. </p><p>“You don’t have any idea, do you? Well, it’s true. Now we’re friends and we spend all our time together and I’m sure I’m very very in love with you. I’ve been flirting with you for ages and you never once even looked at me! And yes, maybe that stings and I’m happy about our friendship as it is but <em> god damn it </em>—it doesn’t stop me from wanting to be your boyfriend. Doesn’t stop me one bit. God, angel, I want you so much.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw hung open. “I…”</p><p>“If you could just-just tell me how you feel about all this. That’d be great.” Crowley blinked, his grip still on Aziraphale’s arm.</p><p>Aziraphale took in a deep breath, staring at Crowley like he’d grown another head. </p><p>“I’m afraid I need a moment to process this.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/revelliee/status/1211237906758524930?s=20"> <em>The scene where they ride on the train was inspired by this Radio Omens art by @revelliee! I love it so much and Crowley and Aziraphale are so soft and gorgeous!</em> </a>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please be kind to Aziraphale, he's just really, um, overwhelmed *pleading face emoji*</p><p>Thank you so much for reading &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Green</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale and Crowley go on their (second) first date!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun had just begun to set, and the ducks continued happily wading in their own little space, unperturbed as water slid off their feathers. It was a fine sort of day, one in which plenty would’ve enjoyed going out for a walk. It neither rained nor stormed nor drizzled. It was, by all its appearances, a perfect sort of day. Even Crowley, whose lungs had by now muddled with his guts, had to admit that it was.</p><p>Leather boots scraped the ground, denting the grass as he paced back and forth. He frantically raked fingers through his hair. He didn’t mind that it now stuck out at odd angles, at least now he looked <em> and </em> felt like he’d just run a marathon.</p><p>Finally, he tripped on a rock and managed to stop pacing.</p><p>“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Crowley told Aziraphale, who was leaning on a sturdy looking tree and still seemed just as shocked as when Crowley had made his stupid confession, nearly a full hour ago.</p><p>Aziraphale stammered helplessly, his voice coming out a pitch higher. “Yes, I… I suppose I must respond now, mustn’t I?”</p><p>Crestfallen, Crowley released a groan. <em> Stupid! </em> How could he have been so reckless?</p><p>“Look, this was a bad idea. Knew I shouldn’t have said anything. D’you want me to leave?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be like that,” replied Aziraphale, his voice still soft and kind because that’s just how he was. It’s got nothing to do with how he felt about Crowley whatsoever. He was tender and sweet to everyone and that’s only one of the many reasons why Crowley fell arse over tits for a <em> literal angel</em>. “I don’t want you to feel bad about yourself. This is all just so unprecedented.”</p><p>Crowley could’ve shaken him by the shoulders. <em> Unprecedented? </em> He’d been mustering up the guts to ask him out for two years! </p><p>“Is it,” Crowley took a deep breath against a bitter taste heavy on his tongue, uncertain whether he wanted to know the answer. “Is it really that much of a shock to you? You really never considered it? You and me?”</p><p>He couldn’t help the drop of disappointment in his speech. He really was a lovesick fool.</p><p>Aziraphale bit his lip, worrying over it until the flesh turned white and blossomed red when relinquished. “I can’t say I have.”</p><p>Crowley’s heart did a total plummet. Well, it wasn’t as if he had high hopes. He knew Aziraphale couldn’t possibly return his feelings, but damn did it still hurt to hear it from the man himself.</p><p>“I just thought for a moment that I might—might as well shoot my shot, you know? I thought you liked me—”</p><p>“Crowley, of course I like you!” Aziraphale interjected, his face morphing into one of sadness tinged with awe—ever so kind and ever so stunning. The perfect blend of qualities all catered to Crowley’s torment. He grabbed Crowley’s arm, his cheeks a dusty light pink as he bore the full intensity of his gaze on him. “I enjoy spending time with you. You make me laugh and, and with you I get all these warm feelings that I never get with anyone else. You make me feel <em> safe</em>. And when you’re not around I miss you so terribly.”</p><p>Hope soared once again in Crowley’s chest and a large dopey grin stretched over his face. “You do?” </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley was just catching up with the somersaulting of his emotions when suddenly—</p><p>“But I like you as a friend,” Aziraphale said, matter-of-factly. “I don’t know if these feelings I have for you are anything else because I have never… liked anyone <em> this much </em> before. Nor has anyone ever confessed to me before, and I’m a little frightened at what I may be getting into. I do not want to hurt you by promising anything more than what I can give.”</p><p>“Are you frightened of <em> me?</em>” Crowley asked nervously. “Because I would never do anything to hurt you, angel.”</p><p>“No! My dear, of course not. And I know you could never hurt me.” Aziraphale began absentmindedly stroking Crowley’s arm, sending jitters up to Crowley’s brain. “But dating, and a <em> relationship </em>, even—it’s all a big change isn’t it?”</p><p>“It doesn’t have to be.”</p><p>Aziraphale shot him a sad smile that still managed to make him look gorgeous. </p><p>“Why can’t you just stay my best friend always? I’m so confused.”</p><p>“I’ll still be your best friend, you know that. No matter what happens.” Crowley returned his uncertain look. They were both treading in unfamiliar waters now. </p><p>Aziraphale looked relieved. “Oh.”</p><p>Apparently, Crowley still had the tendency to run off with his tongue once he’d let it loose. </p><p>“This isn’t me pressuring you into doing anything,” he supplied hastily, barely even thinking now. “I mean, of course I’ll always love you, but that’s my problem not yours. If you want, tomorrow morning we can forget about all this and I’ll still be your best friend.”</p><p>“You would do that?”</p><p>Crowley took a moment to consider it. It’d be tough, sure, knowing Aziraphale would never like him in <em> that </em> way. Knowing that he’d never be able to kiss him good night or cuddle with him in bed while watching some crappy thriller. That he would, for a long time, have a heart that kept murmuring <em> ‘I love you’ </em> and never hear an <em> ‘I love you, too’ </em> in return—like carrying some forbidden secret. None of that particularly appealed to him.</p><p>But he would have <em> Aziraphale </em>. Aziraphale’s laughs, his gaudy jumpers, his old books, his unbearably disorganized fossil collection, and his awful Doctor Who jokes. He’d have sweet dinners and debates over the most useless things. He could hold Aziraphale’s hand and have Aziraphale’s hugs. He would have someone to share his victories and miseries with—a best friend and companion that so few people were lucky enough to find in their lives.</p><p>“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll never bring it up again.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked downcast, which was very far from the reaction Crowley was hoping for.</p><p>“But that isn’t what I want either,” he whispered. He released Crowley’s arm and hugged himself, all wars and conflicts painted on the screwed motion of his furrowing eyebrows. “It’s not that. I mean, I do admit to being overjoyed that you esteem me as much.”</p><p>Crowley scoffed, unable to resist. “<em>Esteem</em>. This isn’t bloody 1846.”</p><p>Aziraphale let out a giggle, and Crowley considered that a success.</p><p>“I wish I knew what to do in these situations. How does one proceed from a confession?”</p><p>The gears in Crowley’s head began to turn. “Say, angel,” he drawled, carefully considering his pitch. “<em> You </em> may be at a loss, but I have a lot of experience in these things.”</p><p>Aziraphale nodded in thought. “As I’m sure you do, my dear.”</p><p>“What I gather from everything you said is that you’re not particularly repulsed by my confession—”</p><p>“Oh, I would never!”</p><p>“Yes, yes, thanks ever so.” Crowley grinned, seeing his ridiculous idea may not be so far-fetched after all. <em> Oh god, if this actually worked— </em> “Your problem is that you don’t know what it’ll be like to lean into all that dating stuff. What if I <em> show </em> you?”</p><p>Aziraphale looked even more confused. “How can that be possible?”</p><p>“Just give me some time, alright? No pressure and no commitment. I’ll go act like I’m your real proper boyfriend, but only to get you to see what it’ll be like to date me.”</p><p>Comprehension slowly dawned on his face, evident in the slight widening of his blue-brightened eyes. “What, like a <em> free trial? </em>” </p><p>Crowley’s smile stretched even wider. “Actually, yeah. Exactly like that. Give me, I dunno, a month?”</p><p>“That seems rather a long time…”</p><p>“Two weeks, then! Consider me your free trial boyfriend for two weeks.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed a very deep shade of red. Crowley’s heart thumped wildly. What if he said no? Oh god, what if he said <em> yes? </em> </p><p>Aziraphale seemed to actually be considering it.</p><p>“So for the next two weeks, you will be acting as you would if we were dating?”</p><p>“Exactly so.”</p><p>“And at the end of that time period, I will get to decide if I want to… subscribe to the <em> full </em>boyfriend experience?” He squeaked.</p><p>Crowley’s intestines were all knotted up just from considering what a <em> full boyfriend experience </em> with Aziraphale might entail, but he forced himself to swat those thoughts away. That was only getting way ahead of himself.</p><p>“What do you say?” </p><p>Finally, the lines on his face smoothened all throughout, giving way to one of Aziraphale’s signature radiant beams. “I would like that very much.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Aziraphale opened his front door to find Crowley standing in the hallway, a huge smile plastered on his face. He looked nice, in a sleek black suit jacket and plain black turtleneck, his red hair standing a wild contrast to it all. Aziraphale had to admit that Crowley looked <em> very </em> nice.</p><p>Aziraphale also felt like throwing up. </p><p>“I don’t think I can do this.”</p><p>He nearly shut the door on Crowley’s face, but Crowley held his hands out before him in a silent plea. </p><p>“Angel! Don’t. Okay? Just—” </p><p>He wasn’t making a lot of sense, so Aziraphale just tilted his head and waited for the churning in his stomach to die down.</p><p>“It’ll be fine, alright?” Crowley reassured, though the shaky grin he had was more going against than helping his case. “We’re just going to get dinner. Done it plenty of times before, haven’t we?”</p><p>“But this is different!” </p><p>“How is this any different?”</p><p>“This time we’re… it’s, you know—” Aziraphale couldn’t stand to look at him. He fidgeted with the hem of his dress shirt. “—A <em> date</em>.” </p><p>There wasn’t much that could be said to describe Aziraphale at that moment. The facts were these: </p><p>First—two days ago, Crowley had proposed the free trial dating scheme and Aziraphale agreed. </p><p>Second—Aziraphale had never been on a date with anyone before. </p><p>Third—Crowley had professed the extents of his <em> regard </em> for Aziraphale, and there was the slight possibility that Aziraphale may, to some degree, feel the same way about <em> him</em>.  </p><p>And fourth—they were about to go on their first date.</p><p>Needless to say, the fact that Crowley could just claim that this was just them getting dinner, as they had done plenty of times before—horrifically discounting all the aforementioned facts as though he would not fathom the very significance of such things and how they were affecting Aziraphale’s<em> poor </em> stomach—was all rather unnerving.</p><p>What he did <em> not </em>expect was for a soft grin to appear on Crowley’s face.</p><p>“What are you smiling about?” </p><p>“Nothing, it’s just,” Crowley reddened slightly. “I’m finally taking you on a date.”</p><p>Aziraphale had to freeze. The room was suddenly very warm and he tried to remember why he’d even bothered to put on a jacket. </p><p>Crowley looked so <em> happy</em>. How could he not return precisely that same smile?</p><p>“Is there anything I have to do?” Aziraphale asked. The last thing that he wanted was to ruin this somehow because of his inexperience. Crowley had been so considerate thus far, helping him catch up. </p><p>“You don’t have to think about it so hard, Zira. We’re just hanging out.”</p><p>“Okay.” Aziraphale was still uncertain. </p><p>“But I suppose you can…” Crowley trailed off, slapping a hand to his nape and looking uneasy again. Aziraphale sensed his discomfort even with his face partially obscured by his beloved sunglasses.</p><p>“I can what?”</p><p>“Well, uh, that is—don’t get mad, alright? Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you seem to kind of like to hold my hand a lot.”</p><p>“Oh.” Aziraphale actually did know this already, though he wasn’t sure why that was making him more flustered <em> now</em>. “I’m sorry—”</p><p>“No! No, don’t be! I’m just saying you, you can do that if you want. Anytime you want. If you, you know. Want.”</p><p>“Ah.”</p><p>Crowley grew apprehensive. “Do you still want to go through with this? We can just get some ice cream and call it a night.”</p><p>“No, I-I want to do this.” Aziraphale said, more determined now. “Shall we go, dear?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>By the time they were finishing their meal, Aziraphale couldn’t even remember why he’d been so nervous. Crowley took him to a breakfast diner. Nothing very fancy, but cosy enough for them to consider it somewhat more special than their usual hangout spots. They were having a great time. Aziraphale was pleasantly surprised to find that, even with all this new development, being with Crowley was still as easy as ever. There wasn’t any pressure to play up certain qualities, since they already knew each other well. There was neither performance nor deception—so very different from all the novels he’d read. </p><p><em> ‘It’s hardly what I’d call a good romance,’ </em>Crowley had told him some time ago. Was this what a good romance was?</p><p>Mostly, he was surprised to find that it was hardly any different from how they hung out as friends, and Aziraphale was beginning to consider that if dating Crowley wouldn’t change anything about their friendship, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad of an idea.</p><p>Crowley would be his boyfriend. But most of all, he would still be his <em> best </em> friend. And it would make Crowley so happy.</p><p>“You up for a walk?” Crowley asked as he received the check from the waitress.</p><p>Aziraphale nodded with enthusiasm. “Absolutely. The night is still young.”</p><p>“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” </p><p>Crowley glanced at the check and reached for his wallet. Aziraphale did the same, but Crowley stalled his movement. </p><p>“Oh no, Zira, this one’s on me.”</p><p>Aziraphale scowled. “That’s hardly fair. We always split the bill when we go out for meals, barring that one time we were celebrating your win. Why should you be paying for this one?”</p><p>Crowley faltered a little in his posture, but kept his expression cool. “Because I asked you out on this date and it’s my way of saying thank you for agreeing.”</p><p>Aziraphale still didn’t quite understand, but he made no further protest. Crowley tucked in some bills and returned it to the waitress.</p><p>“Right, then. What’s wrong?” </p><p>Aziraphale looked up from his lap, where he’d been twiddling his thumbs. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong, my dear. Everything is tickety boo.”</p><p>But Crowley was skeptical, and he did tell Aziraphale that he was very easy to read, so it would be a miracle to successfully hide anything from him.</p><p>“You’re getting that look you get when something’s bothering you but you don’t wanna say what. Tell me.”</p><p>Aziraphale sighed. “I feel awful about not paying. Why can’t we just split the bill?”</p><p>Just in time, the waitress returned the receipt along with Crowley’s change and sashayed off with a sway to her hips. Crowley laughed.</p><p>“You’re so difficult to please sometimes,” he said fondly. “Fine then.”</p><p>Aziraphale lit up, reaching over to his side of the table to take the receipt from him. In the process, the very tips of his fingers brushed over the smooth velvet of Crowley’s suit jacket. Aziraphale wondered how he would react if he were to grab hold of Crowley’s arm, and maybe even his hand, then and there.</p><p>It was nothing he hadn’t done before, but the very thought of it now brought an alarmingly vivid shade to his cheeks.</p><p>But he did have to retrieve his hand. He’d nearly forgotten that he’d brought it out for a purpose. Crowley’s was all encouragement, and he returned it with a smile of his own.</p><p>He looked down at the piece of paper, and all the colour drained from his face.</p><p>There on the sheet, scrawled straight over the words and the numbers written in sparkly blue gel pen, was another series of numbers and a series of x’s.</p><p>Now Aziraphale really felt sick in the stomach, and it’s nothing to do with jitters.</p><p>“Angel?” Crowley asked with such genuine <em> concern </em> that it only increased his queasiness. “Is everything alright?” </p><p>Aziraphale slammed the receipt back on the table, flinging it from his grasp like it burned his skin.</p><p>“O-on second thought, I think I would like to head straight home.”</p><p>Disappointment was evident in Crowley's expression. He looked <em> hurt </em> and Aziraphale should probably apologize, but what were all these feelings that were crawling up all the way from his still churning stomach? So numerous and flowing quickly in succession, leaving him perplexed and uneasy. He could barely process his surroundings.</p><p>“If that’s what you want.”</p><p>Aziraphale pushed himself off the table, heading towards the exit without a single word. He couldn’t trust himself to speak, afraid of being too transparent and Crowley reading from him what he could barely even comprehend himself.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley, of course, followed him right off the bat. What went wrong<em> now? </em> It was getting repetitive, how things always seemed to come back and bite him in the butt when it came to his efforts in wooing Aziraphale. Why, oh <em> why, </em> did this have to be so complicated?</p><p>They got as far as a few steps down the pavement when Crowley called after him.</p><p>“Angel!” </p><p>Aziraphale paused and took a deep breath before turning back to face him.</p><p>Crowley stared helplessly. “Whatever I said, I apologize. I didn’t mean it, alright? Work with me, I’m apologizing here.”</p><p>The wind played with tendrils of Aziraphale’s soft curls, the cold biting redness to his pursed lips. Crowley took a good look at him, as he always did, and even with his eyes downcast, he was still utterly endearing. </p><p>“It’s nothing, Crowley. I’m just tired.”</p><p>Of course Crowley knew better than to believe that. He racked his brains <em> (yes, he did occasionally make use of them!) </em> for something that Aziraphale could have been upset about. His mind went back to the bill, back to the precise moment that Aziraphale’s mood did a total 180.</p><p>He wrenched his hand into his pocket and took out the receipt and there, written in glossy ink, was the waitress’s name and phone number.</p><p>The most ridiculous frown and besotted smile simultaneously made their way onto Crowley’s face.</p><p>Aziraphale was determined to avert his eyes.</p><p>“Was it this that upset you?” Crowley waved the receipt in the air, moonlight glinting tauntingly over the sparkly ink. </p><p>Aziraphale didn’t answer, his mouth still drawn into the most determined pout that Crowley had ever seen on anyone.</p><p>“Zira, come on.” The corners of his lips were aching from suppressing a smile.</p><p>In response, Aziraphale turned around and resumed walking. Crowley marched after him.</p><p>“Angel, help me understand, will you? This has never bothered you before.” Crowley’s longer legs easily kept him to Aziraphale’s side, but the angel was absolutely fuming and Crowley didn’t know if he dared to get closer. “You even <em> encouraged </em>some of them if I recall correctly.”</p><p>Aziraphale huffed but still made no response.</p><p>And it was utterly ridiculous, but this was the precise moment that it dawned on him that Aziraphale was <em> jealous</em>.</p><p>He almost couldn’t believe it. He’d been so used to Aziraphale ignoring him, and always having to go out of his way to get Aziraphale’s attention, that this alone was enough to bowl him over.</p><p>He took hold of Aziraphale’s arm, making sure to avoid the injured spot, and gently but firmly pulled him back. </p><p>Aziraphale spun around and nearly collided with his chest, his jaw hanging open.</p><p>“Angel, I’m not gonna call it.” Crowley was surprised at how smooth his voice sounded, and as he was rarely ever so blessed in Aziraphale’s presence, he had to take full advantage. “I never did call any of them really.”</p><p>Aziraphale began to relax. “Oh. Well, that’s, um. Good.”</p><p>Relief coursed over him. He released Aziraphale’s arm, going back to his usual offhand humour to help lighten the angel’s mood. When in doubt, always go back to banter.</p><p>“Now really, what d’you have to be mad at me for? I can’t exactly help it that I’m this good looking.” He chuckled, waiting for Aziraphale’s snarky reply.</p><p>To his surprise, Aziraphale only pouted furiously, his gaze dragging on every feature of Crowley’s face. </p><p>“Indeed, you are far too handsome for your own good. How can I not be concerned with so many rivals?”</p><p>Crowley’s breathing stuttered, there in the middle of the street where there was still plenty of oxygen supply in the air. At first he thought Aziraphale might also be joking, but there was no hint of sarcasm in his demeanour.</p><p>Oh. Oh fuck, Aziraphale was <em> serious</em>. Which meant he had to be serious in return.</p><p>“You know, ‘rivals’ only works if I weren’t already entirely taken by you,” Crowley said. “You may instead just refer to them as <em> nuisances</em>.”</p><p>This brought a deliciously red flush to Aziraphale’s cheeks and, oh shit, <em> he </em> did that. He. Did. That. And this was all going great, wasn’t it? Aziraphale <em> might </em> be flirting, and he could flirt back—oh, he needed to up his game. This was the critical moment, the pivoting point that could tip them all over—</p><p>“Why couldn’t you have looked like a gerbil?”</p><p>That wasn’t exactly the response Crowley had been expecting.</p><p>“A <em> gerbil? </em>”</p><p>“Oh, don’t look so offended. Gerbils are cute.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid, it’s a <em> gerbil</em>.”</p><p>Aziraphale giggled.</p><p>Emboldened, Crowley spoke again. “Besides, you’d never have agreed to go on a date with me without these good looks, so I’d very much like to keep them, thanks.”</p><p>All of a sudden, all traces of mirth disappeared from Aziraphale’s face. </p><p>“Now you know that’s not true. I like you for <em> you</em>, Crowley, not for your good looks.”</p><p>This was, though Crowley loathed to admit it, terrifically on point. Considering how long it took for Aziraphale to finally know him beyond being the penis ring guy from anthropology.</p><p>It was jarring to be admired for something other than his looks. Crowley had been valued for that for so long, and he certainly felt no shame in taking advantage of it. It was almost enough to convince himself that he had no value beyond what he looked like.</p><p>But Aziraphale, the wonderful gorgeous angel, didn’t give a lick about that and Crowley was so truly utterly gone on him that he couldn’t even remember there being a time that he was <em> not </em> in love with Aziraphale.</p><p>Aziraphale took the initiative of resuming their walk, and this time—for the first time, it was Crowley who took the initiative of taking hold of his hand.</p><p>For a moment, Aziraphale was surprised, but he didn’t pull away. Tentatively, Crowley twined their fingers, pressed them palm to palm and kept them in that position as they walked.</p><p>“Crowley?” Aziraphale choked out.</p><p>“If you’re really bothered by the phone numbers, this’ll send them a clear signal to back off.” </p><p>Aziraphale flushed even deeper and nodded. Crowley felt him squeeze his hand—and it was victory sweeter than any race he’d ever won.</p><p>Their joined hands swung neatly between their bodies, right up until they reached Aziraphale’s front door, where they reluctantly had to part once again. Aziraphale greeted him with a ‘good night’, and an assurance that he’d had a great time. Crowley was over the moon, and at last they parted ways. Even so, the feeling of twined fingers and pressed palms lingered for much longer, as did the satisfied smiles on both the owners’ faces.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inserting that reference to Radio Omens!Crowley was absolutely a self-indulgent decision on my part, because I am an h-word for BOTH TV! and Radio!Crowley &lt;333</p><p>Anyways, I hope yall enjoyed this update! I'd really love it if you could leave a comment and stuff too and like, whether you had a favorite part orrr something &lt;3 :)</p><p>As always, scream with me on twitter! @angelsnuffbox</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Untamed Lion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Halfway through the free trial dating scheme, Aziraphale runs into... a little problem.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In retrospect, Aziraphale probably should have stopped reading the trashy romance novels when he started dating Crowley, because he now had a new problem on his hands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘“How far are you willing to take this, Cassandra? Do you step inside a predator’s den and expect not to be mauled?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I am not afraid of you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What you do not and how you ought to feel are entirely different.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I see nothing to fear right now.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Not a second after, the Viscount’s hand winds tight into my hair, pulling the strands taut at the base of my skull. His eyes rake down the exposed column of my throat with a gaze hungry as the untamed lion—the predator which he thinks himself to be, but that which I did not believe for a second. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The blood becomes fire in my veins, the desire becoming unbeatable, ringing loudly and impossible to block out. I gasp when his mouth crashes onto mine with infinite force. His kisses are hard and needy, heavily-laden with want and greed and a blazing fire burns in my chest. He knows how to make me want him, and yet I can feel myself give in. Give in to him, of my own volition, without restraint and without hesitation. His long fingers trace a path down my collarbone, searing down to the swell of my br—’ </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Angel!”</p><p>Aziraphale bolted from his seat with a loud squeak, back ramrod straight at the sound of Crowley’s voice. Crowley had just come out from training, the tips of his red hair adorned with tiny droplets. Aziraphale slammed his book shut and shoved it back in the confines of his sling bag.</p><p>“Crowley!”</p><p>Crowley stopped walking and searched his face with an odd look. “Are you alright? You look a bit flushed.”</p><p>“I-I’m tip-top, dear.” Aziraphale shot him a smile that might have been far too wide, and before Crowley could think too hard about it, he pulled up the strap of his bag over his shoulder and added, “Shall we get going then?”</p><p>The sound of rustling leaves filled the air as a cool breeze swept past them. Aziraphale shivered against it, his cheeks stinging from the cold. A few dust particles were barreling straight to his face and he felt them scraping against his skin. He shut his eyes, waiting for the wind to die down.</p><p>When he opened them again, Crowley was leaning in.</p><p>Aziraphale could only fix him with a wide-eyed stare, his heart leaping into motion and quite possibly fighting against the confinement of his sternum. Crowley was so <em> close </em> —his hair almost copper under golden sun, his nose and cheeks generously endowed with faintly scattered freckles, and Aziraphale held his breath and gazed at Crowley’s mouth and <em> oh</em>, his lower lip being much fuller than his top one—how had he never noticed that before? They were faintly red and looked very soft, almost like a temptation.</p><p>In this fleeting moment, where it was both loud and quiet all at once, Aziraphale wondered how his first kiss was going to go, if it would be anything like the novels he’d read. His eyes fluttered shut, gradually and naturally, and he tilted his head up by a fraction. In response, Crowley brought up a hand to stroke the hair at the side of his head, and he couldn’t resist leaning slightly into the touch.</p><p>Then, Crowley drew his hand away.</p><p>Confused, Aziraphale opened his eyes, and found a dried out twig nestled in Crowley’s clawed bony grip.</p><p>“Gotcha, you little bastard!” Crowley shouted at… at the<em> leaf? </em></p><p>Aziraphale blinked a couple of times. Just to make sure that what he was seeing was real. </p><p>Crowley shot him a disarming grin. “You looked like an elf.” Chuckling, he stepped back and resumed their walk.</p><p>It took a couple more seconds for Aziraphale to get his feet working. His hammering heart pounded gallons of blood all over his face. Oh dear. Oh <em> no— </em></p><p>
  <em> What on earth just happened?! </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The problem was that once it had started, Aziraphale didn’t know how to make it stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Crowley.</p><p>Like that one time that Crowley fell asleep on his couch. They had been up late studying. Well, at least Aziraphale had been studying. After all this time, it still infuriated him how little Crowley actually had to sit down with a bunch of books to get by in his classes. Most of them he even passed with flying colours. Meanwhile, every single exam was a daunting task for Aziraphale. All efforts exerted which may or may not even pay off, while Crowley dozed off on the sofa, his mouth hanging open and his long limbs sprawled out.</p><p>His breathing came out in soft and steady whistles. Aziraphale sat down next to him and pulled out Crowley’s arm from behind his back, hoping to make him more comfortable. In his sleep, Crowley let out a large exhale, sinking deeper into the cushions.</p><p>And once again, Aziraphale thought about kissing him.</p><p>Worry etched itself onto his features and he released his hold on Crowley’s arm, plopping it back down on the seat. Breathing heavily, he scooted back and increased the distance between him and his friend.<em> Boyfriend? </em> He didn’t even know. He couldn’t think.</p><p>“You alright there?” Newt’s voice rang out from the direction of their tiny kitchen.</p><p>Aziraphale jumped up from his seat like someone had caught him doing something <em> obscene </em>. But, oh, wasn’t that exactly what he’d been doing? His thoughts--he was having thoughts that-that he shouldn’t even be having! Crowley would be so displeased. He needed to learn how to stop!</p><p>“Woah there,” Newt remarked. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”</p><p>Aziraphale let out a shaky smile. “Of course. I-I was just reading!”</p><p>“Crowley’s out like a light, huh?”</p><p>Aziraphale didn’t dare to look back at the redhead, afraid of losing his mind once again. He nodded eagerly. “He’s been sluggish since the tournaments ended.”</p><p>Newt nodded in understanding, shifting his gaze between the two of them. Then, in a warier tone, he asked: “So, uh, you two? You’re dating now, right?”</p><p>The question took him by surprise. Aziraphale stood, wringing his fingers over his stomach. “I, ah—”</p><p>“Angel?” Crowley shuffled from his position. Brown eyes shot open and stared at the ceiling. “Why’d you lemme sleep?”</p><p>Aziraphale took this opportunity to avoid addressing Newt’s question. “You were tired, dear. And you weren’t doing much studying anyway.”</p><p>Crowley grinned. “Midnight snack then? I bet you’re real peckish now.”</p><p>Aziraphale bit his lip. “Actually I was thinking we call it a night. Y-you best be heading home.”</p><p>This evidently confused Crowley, who usually kipped the night away on that very sofa with little problem. He had a few outfits stored in Aziraphale’s dressers. He even had his designated toothbrush in the bathroom!</p><p>For Aziraphale to suddenly be sending him away, well, that probably might seem odd. He held his breath.</p><p>Crowley’s expression turned serious, his forearms perching over his knees—but he made no retort. Asked no question. He stood up, and Aziraphale felt his own heart drop as he did so. He didn’t dare to look at the redhead’s face.</p><p>“Alright, then. G’night, Zira. Newt.” He nodded curtly at Newt’s general direction, gathered up his stuff, and was out the door in barely thirty seconds.</p><p>In his bed, Aziraphale tossed and turned, willing sleep to take over. But his mind still would not let him rest, plagued only with thoughts of Crowley and the look of disappointment he had moments before he left. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley still picked him up the next day, showing up early at the door as though nothing strange had occurred the night before. Aziraphale was both relieved and anxious to see him.</p><p>On the train ride to campus, Crowley shifted on his feet, moving closer until the sides of their arms pressed together. Aziraphale gave him a subtle glance, but Crowley kept his gaze trained on the window. From this angle, Aziraphale had a full view of his profile. The way the tunnel lights danced over the lopsided rims of his sunglasses and onto his brown eyes. He was breathtaking.</p><p>Aziraphale still could not fathom why Crowley, who could probably get anyone he wanted, would want to date <em> him </em> of all people. And rather than filling him with pride, it only left him perplexed to no end.</p><p>And <em> of course </em>he was thinking about kissing him.</p><p>Crowley’s hand shifted against his side. Almost shyly, his fingers flexed in a wordless stretch to reach Aziraphale’s own, hooking right underneath his knuckles.</p><p>And <em> oh Lord</em>, the <em>thoughts</em> rose up to disproportionate levels with the access to Crowley’s touch. They were like fires smoking up his brain, setting off all the alarms and it was too much—Aziraphale withdrew his hand and took a step back, away from Crowley and waited for the embers to die down.</p><p>Had Aziraphale been looking at Crowley, he would have noted from his expression that the fires in his mind seemed to burn <em> him </em> as well.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>In case you haven’t surmised it on your own yet, Crowley was in a state of deep internal panic. </p><p>They were more than a week into the free trial dating scheme now, and Crowley was at a loss as to what else he could offer Aziraphale. Sure they went out for dinner dates and coffee dates and study dates, but ultimately none of those were much different from what they’d been doing before. And Crowley was fine with that. He was determined to take this as slow as he needed for Aziraphale, and he thought he’d been doing a pretty good job actually.</p><p>Then, Aziraphale started to distance himself from him, and Crowley was once again at a complete loss.</p><p>You see, though Crowley had gotten used to getting him those little desserts and accompanying him on late night study sessions, he was well aware that Aziraphale was the kind of person who deserved much more than those things. Aziraphale deserved to be taken to upscale restaurants with those fine dining servers and overly-cushioned seats. He deserved to be driven around in some fancy vintage car—and if Crowley could, he’d get himself one of those in a heartbeat. He hated not being able to do any of those for him, and with sudden disparaging force he realized that he had nothing else to offer and Aziraphale was getting <em> bored </em>with him. </p><p>Barely into the beginning and Crowley was already losing him.</p><p>The shifty behavior and distancing were sure signs. It wouldn’t be long now. Soon, Aziraphale would sit him down and tell him nicely, but frankly: <em> ‘My dear, this has been a most riveting experience, but I think it is time we put it to a stop.’ </em></p><p>He didn’t know what else to do.</p><p>But he couldn’t think too much about that now. He was about to meet up with Aziraphale at the library, and if these were to be their last moments together, then he may as well make the best of them. He’d given it his best shot, but he never did fully believe that he deserved to have Aziraphale, so his small consolation was that his expectations didn’t have much room to plummet from.</p><p>Crowley had expected to find him in either the References or Classics section. Instead, he found the angel somewhere in Non-Fiction, standing in front of one of the shelves, head bowed and squinting over some book about civil wars.</p><p>Curious, Crowley slinked up behind him to peer down at the book, his chin very close to resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder.</p><p>“Bit of a departure from Heyer, don’t you think?”</p><p>Aziraphale whipped his head to face him, heavily misjudging his proximity. Their noses brushed, and for a couple of seconds they both stood immobilized in a bubble where time did not flow.</p><p>Crowley stopped breathing. In what by now had become instinct, his gaze dropped to Aziraphale’s mouth.</p><p>Blue eyes widened with shock. Aziraphale let out an uncharacteristic squeak and jumped three steps back as though Crowley was on fire.</p><p>So, yeah, that stung a little. A bit.</p><p>“Right, that’s <em> it</em>.” Crowley snapped, anger and frustration and disappointment boiling into stew inside him. “What’s going on, Zira? What’ve I done wrong?”</p><p>Panic and guilt morphed into a monstrous being on the angel’s face.</p><p>“I have no idea what you mean! Nothing’s wrong.” He spun back around and replaced the book back on the ledge.</p><p>Crowley followed him out of the library, the two of them heading in the direction of the duck pond again. And though a part of him was still trembling with rage and fear, Crowley couldn’t help noting the anxiety in the way Aziraphale held himself. He was restless and fidgety, fingers wrenched into the hem of his coat. Crowley thought hard. He could usually read Aziraphale easily when his mind was up for it. </p><p>With trepidation, he realized that Aziraphale needed to get something off his chest.</p><p>And that something was probably about <em> him</em>. </p><p>“Aziraphale.”</p><p>It was the graveness in his tone that made the angel grind his feet into a halt. He turned back towards Crowley, brows intensely frayed with worry. </p><p>“Y-yes, Crowley?”</p><p>Crowley took a deep breath to steel himself. It was better to bring it up now and save both of them from further trouble.</p><p>There was no use prolonging the inevitable.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he began, but found that his next words grew much heavier and he had to force them out of him. “I can see you’ve been unhappy lately. That wasn’t what I wanted at all when I suggested this.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I believe this is my fault this time.”</p><p>Crowley rushed to shake his head. “No, no! Not at all, don’t say that.” Aziraphale was under no obligation to return his feelings. This was nobody’s fault but his own. “You don’t have to finish the whole thing, you know?”</p><p>“What thing?”</p><p>Crowley gestured vaguely, waving a hand between the two of them. </p><p>“<em> This </em> thing. We don’t have to do the whole two weeks dating. I think-I think we’ve done a good amount of stuff. Thanks for that, but I—” he gulped, willing his voice to remain neutral. “I don’t want to force you into a relationship that you obviously do not want. That’s the last thing I want to happen so—you can break it off. No hard feelings.”</p><p>Well, probably some hard feelings—but again, he brought that on himself. He would deal with it.</p><p>Instead of the impending heartbreak, what he saw when he dared to look at Aziraphale again was gripping sadness.</p><p>“Crowley, what…?”</p><p>“Was that not what you brought us out here for? Why you’ve been <em> avoiding </em> me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Sometimes I swear you can’t even bear to look at me anymore.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s mouth dropped into a softly muttered “Oh.”</p><p>He urged Crowley to take a seat on the bench.</p><p>Aziraphale sat with his hands perfectly folded on his lap, his cheeks tinged pink as he purposefully evaded Crowley’s gaze.</p><p>“Zira?”</p><p>Aziraphale sucked in a huge breath. “I owe you an explanation.”</p><p>Streams of sunlight filtered across his face and Crowley couldn’t help but think that he looked like an art piece, even now as uncertainty hung in between them.</p><p>“Wait, you don’t have to—”</p><p>“I don’t want to break up.” Aziraphale gave an indignant huff. His mouth pulled into an adorable pout that had Crowley’s heart soaring. “How could you even think that? I have been so happy with you.”</p><p>Crowley nearly choked on his spit. “You-wait, really?”</p><p>He nodded shyly. “The problem is me, I’m afraid.”</p><p>Utter confusion lulled him to silence. If Aziraphale didn’t come here to break up, then what was it he was trying to say?</p><p>“Just tell me, angel, and we’ll work it out,” Crowley prodded. Always eager, always attentive. “Is it with coursework? Are you having trouble with maths? ‘Cause I can help you with—”</p><p>“I cannot stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.”</p><p>Crowley’s entire world went to a standstill. The wind stopped blowing and the ducks stopped swimming. The pond froze to ice altogether. Even the sun had the decency to dim itself down, to pay proper respects to this very moment.</p><p>Whatever it was he’d been expecting, it certainly wasn’t <em> that</em>.</p><p>Aziraphale ducked his chin, his face flaming red as he continued his speech. “I tried to make it stop—I really did, but for some reason I can’t! And I’ve been feeling so dreadful about it, and I’m sorry. But please do not think that this is your fault. I promise you, I will fix this.”</p><p>Crowley had to flip this over and over in his mind, to get the feel of it. Aziraphale’s problem was that he thought about <em> kissing him? </em> </p><p>Crowley’s mind went reeling on all possible tangents. He never thought it would be possible for him to ever get to kiss Aziraphale—though he wanted to, of course. Sometimes, he considered easing Aziraphale into it. Like some sort of experiment where he could set up controls and get Aziraphale on board by throwing out the hypothesis of <em> ‘Hey, angel, maybe if we try pressing your lips to my lips, you’ll find that you don’t find it too disgusting to maybe wanna do it again in the future?’ </em></p><p>What he never thought to consider was for Aziraphale to think about it on his own, with absolutely no prompting from him. Heck, he’d assumed he wanted the complete opposite!</p><p>Crowley realized that Aziraphale’s face was still hot with shame, and it became evident that he needed to get his act together.</p><p>His lips pulled up into the widest smile.</p><p>He took the chance and reached over to grab Aziraphale’s clenched fist, his thumb soothing a gentle path across his knuckles. Back and forth, back and forth.</p><p>Slowly, Aziraphale turned to face him. “Crowley?”</p><p>In response, he chuckled and scooted closer on the seat, heat radiating from their arms all the way to their thighs where they sat much closer than they usually did. Aziraphale didn’t pull away, and a pleasant warmth grew from the clattering, beating thing inside his chest.</p><p>“<em>Angel,</em>” he said, all of a sudden feeling very giddy. Like he was up in the air, flying, and everything else was <em> way down there</em>. “You shouldn’t feel bad about that. There’s nothing wrong with having these thoughts.”</p><p>Aziraphale still looked worried. “Are you sure? Doesn’t it bother you?”</p><p>“Angel, I do the same.” He searched Aziraphale’s face carefully, watched those beautiful eyes grow larger. “With you, of course. Only with you,” he added hastily.</p><p>In a flash, Aziraphale’s concern broke away, relaxing visibly. </p><p>“You think about kissing me?”</p><p>Crowley nodded, biting his lip and lacing their fingers together on Aziraphale’s lap. “Always. Almost all the time.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked thoroughly relieved and pleasantly surprised. “Oh.”</p><p>“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for… a very long time now,” Crowley admitted, and he wasn’t usually one for talking about sappy feelings, but he was surprised to find how good it felt to finally get this off his chest. He shot Aziraphale what he hoped was a comforting smile. “I’d really love to, you know. But I’m not gonna do it unless you really want me to. So, anytime you’re ready, alright?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s shoulders sagged with relief. He gave Crowley a genuine smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in sheer delight.</p><p>“Yes. More than alright. Perfect.” He squeezed Crowley’s hand.</p><p>“So… we’re good? You’re not gonna avoid me now?”</p><p>Aziraphale giggled nervously. “No, no. And you, you aren’t going to convince me to break up with you?”</p><p>Crowley frantically shook his head. “That was dumb. Dunno what I was thinking.” He stood up, pulling Aziraphale along with him. “So, dessert?”</p><p>“Sounds lovely.”</p><p>“Hang on.”</p><p>Crowley reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He unlocked the screen with a few swipes.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Aziraphale asked.</p><p>Crowley held his phone in his other hand, the one not latched onto Aziraphale, and brought it up in front of their faces.</p><p>“You’ve been really sly using my photo as your wallpaper.”</p><p>Aziraphale flushed. “You told me it had to be something that made me happy. <em> You </em> make me happy.”</p><p>“Mm-hm.” It was amazing how Crowley could still make himself seem nonchalant. “Want something like that too, now smile.”</p><p>Crowley grinned at the camera, watching the phone screen mirror their faces as Aziraphale stepped close to fit into the frame, as soft and beautiful on the screen as he was in person. Crowley pressed the button to snap a photo, and at the very last second, Aziraphale turned his face to press the upturned tip of his nose to Crowley’s cheek.</p><p>It was a very good thing that the shot was taken just before Crowley’s insides melted into goo.</p><p>“I! What—<em> Zira!</em>”</p><p>“How did that look? I want to see!”</p><p>By some work of miracle, <a href="https://twitter.com/foolishprncplty/status/1321365913799516160?s=20">the photo was crisp despite having been taken in Crowley’s trembling grip.</a> The sky painted their skin gold, a flurry of warmth scattered over their hairs and their faces. Crowley’s smile wobbled a little, but he looked confidently at the camera while Aziraphale nestled on the side of his face, an eye fluttered shut with lashes pressed against Crowley’s cheek, a quirked up corner of his mouth breathing all the life and contentment into the photo.</p><p>
  <em> Happy. </em>
</p><p>“Oh, Crowley, that looks <em> perfect</em>.”</p><p> </p><p> <br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think I had too much fun writing that trashy novel passage until I realized that's not too far from how I write smut 👀😅😅 so yall be thankful I'm keeping this fic family-friendly.</p><p>Aaaa I'm so excited to see your reactions to how the story is unfolding! I've been thinking a lot about how to convincingly write Aziraphale's blooming attraction from an aspec perspective. And it makes me sooo darn happy when I see fellow aces in the comments saying how they can relate to him. Really, thank you so much.</p><p>Happy Ace Week to my fellows!! &lt;3 Crowley and Aziraphale love you so much!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Into the Phonebooth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This came out nearly twice as long as the previous chapters and I'm a little anxious haha i hope yall like how it turned out or else im just gonna hide in a corner....</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things were going pretty well, weren’t they?</p><p>Crowley would sure like to think so. He and Aziraphale were on good terms. Holding hands and going on cute dates, featuring in each other's phone wallpapers and talking about bloody <em> kissing</em>.</p><p>Except that was the weird part, wasn't it? Couples that talk about kissing usually do the actual kissing. Yet despite how Aziraphale made that flustered confession a few days ago, much to Crowley's eternal amusement, and Aziraphale looking all too receptive to the idea, not a single act of kissing had actually taken place.</p><p>The two weeks duration of their free trial dating scheme would end on Saturday, which was only two days away. Crowley had been confident since Aziraphale's confession, but all that withered away quickly. What if Saturday arrived and Aziraphale told him he wanted to remain friends? After all, if he intended to keep dating Crowley then shouldn't they have kissed by now? Crowley made sure to show how keen he was about the prospect. </p><p>Ultimately, it’s Aziraphale’s choice that would determine how this would all come to an end, but bloody heaven, he'd been so <em> close</em>. It'll be difficult now to pull back again, should Aziraphale say no. He sighed and opened his phone to check for messages. There weren't any texts, but he was greeted by that photo of him and a certain angel on his lock screen. </p><p>Golden white hair. Cute button nose. Blinding wide smile. Gorgeous. Just gorgeous and always a little bit beyond his reach. </p><p>For all Crowley's general screw ups, Aziraphale did seem to be very happy with him. And he knew he should count it a good thing that the temporary arrangement didn't end up being too much of a bother for him, but somehow that only made it worse. Because if Aziraphale enjoyed being with him and still said no to dating him then that would mean that Crowley wasn't the problem. There wasn't anything left he could prove. </p><p>It would mean that Aziraphale just <em> didn't want to date him</em>, no matter how much he tried to show him how nice it could be. There was simply no way for Aziraphale to like him like <em> that</em>. </p><p>Crowley yawned into his palm and strode into the library, quickly searching the place. It looked as though Aziraphale hadn't arrived yet, but he'd probably show up soon. It was finals week, and for Aziraphale that meant another series of sleepless nights spent mumbling every epoch of the geologic timescale like a madman. For Crowley, it meant that training and competition season was over, and all he wanted was to stay glued to his bed, sleeping for more hours each day than there were hours a day could provide. </p><p>He made his way over to a space with three empty seats, occupying the middle one. Truthfully, he just wanted to sleep again, but Aziraphale was at his most restless during exams, and he'd specifically asked for Crowley to accompany him while studying. He agreed, of course. It was better to while away the hours in a library with Aziraphale than to spend their last few days as a couple alone. </p><p>Aziraphale showed up about five minutes after, his arms full, carrying about three full-sized textbooks and a laptop all at once. He shot Crowley his signature angelic smile and occupied the seat to his right. </p><p>That was a habit he’d developed just recently. When he was studying, he always made sure he was on Crowley's right side. Crowley barely noticed it at first, until one time Crowley got up to get something to nibble and returned to seat himself on Aziraphale's right. Aziraphale paused in the middle of his furious scribbling, turned to him, and frowned until Crowley returned to his original seat.</p><p>As it turns out, Aziraphale insisted on sitting to Crowley's right because it allowed him to keep writing his notes and left his other hand free to hold Crowley's. </p><p>It was automatic now. Aziraphale took his seat in the library, laid out all his things and once he'd settled down, Crowley <em> (who had his focus entrapped by a tapping game about farm chickens on his smartphone) </em> reached his right hand over and placed it, palm upwards, on Aziraphale's thigh.  </p><p>Their hands clasped together instantly, and an hour passed in this manner with neither of them talking.</p><p>Aziraphale was the first to break the silence. "It's Gabriel's birthday this weekend."</p><p>Crowley glanced up from his phone. Grimly, he said, "Shall I send him a gift card?" </p><p>"That won't be necessary. I'll be having dinner with him and my parents again. This Saturday." </p><p>"Right."</p><p>Crowley was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend time with Aziraphale on their last day as a couple, but he was able to swallow the bitterness down quickly. It was probably best that they didn't meet. That way, they could get the breakup process over and done with through a rapid conversation on Sunday instead, and hopefully that sting would go down quickly too.</p><p>"Unless," quipped Aziraphale, seeming to backpedal on something. "Unless you prefer we do something instead. I can cancel."</p><p>Panic seized up Crowley's throat. He feared Aziraphale might do something awfully angelic, like plan a grand romantic breakup date for them <em> (because that really seemed like something he would do)</em>, and as great as the lengths that Crowley would go to for him, he really wasn't looking forward to a staged pity party for his benefit. </p><p>"Nah, you should go," he said flippantly as he unpaused his game. "Say hi to good old Gabe for me."</p><p>A flicker of dismay went across Aziraphale's features, but he said nothing. </p><p>They were silent for another half hour.</p><p>At that point, the urge to doze off was too overpowering. Aziraphale would likely stay engrossed in his books for another four hours at least, and it was still another two hours before Crowley needed to get up to get them both something to eat. He switched off his phone and folded his free arm on the table before him, nestling his head over his forearm.</p><p>He closed his eyes. Shutting off his sight intensified all the other sensations present. The table was cold and hard, awkward under the shifting bone of his far too skinny arm. His hand was clammy in Aziraphale's grasp from having been held for over an hour, but he didn't mind. And either Aziraphale didn't either, or he'd just completely forgotten that he still had a left hand.</p><p>Through this point of contact, he felt Aziraphale tense up, his fingers going stiff over Crowley's. His anxiety always got a bit dire during exams, and Crowley understood that <em> (he really did. He had to see a sports therapist when he first started competing in high school)</em>. Drifting in and out of sleep, Crowley tried his best to get him to relax. He ran his thumb over Aziraphale's  knuckles, bouncing softly and smoothly over ridges and valleys. The rhythm wasn't consistent, as he wasn't even entirely sure whether the touch was real or just being played out by the half-baked dreams of an uncomfortable nap, but he repeated the motions as best he could until Aziraphale's grasp went limp.</p><p>Somewhere in his dreams, he also felt his hand pulled to rest on the table, followed by a faint tickling sensation over the back of his palm.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Crowley accompanied him back to his apartment and was about to bid him good night, Aziraphale paused right at the doorstep, turned to him and blurted out a question. </p><p>"Why do you even like me?" </p><p>Flustered and absolutely not expecting to be asked this question less than a couple days before they were scheduled to break up, Crowley responded with a string of incomprehensible noises lovingly retrieved from the back of his throat.</p><p>Aziraphale released a sad and frustrated sigh. "Never mind. Good night, Crowley."</p><p>He disappeared behind the door. Without the feeling of Aziraphale's hand clutching his, he was left feeling bereft, and he glared at his now suddenly very empty right hand. </p><p>Only his gaze was drawn to a scribble of blue-black ink, slightly smudged, on the back of his hand. This must be from the funny sensation he got when he was napping in the library.</p><p>He squinted and frowned at the doodle, and if his brain could make sounds it would probably just be rattling a lot.</p><p><em> Why </em> did Aziraphale draw a butt on his hand?</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Friday came around and it was the last day of the term. Crowley hoped that he and Aziraphale could do something to celebrate, after all the exams were through, and he sent Aziraphale a text first thing in the morning inviting him out for a hearty meal at his favorite breakfast diner.</p><p>To his surprise, Aziraphale declined the offer, his reply barely taking all of two minutes. Crowley's heart plummeted in his chest. It was uncharacteristic of Aziraphale to decline the offer of food, and now he really worried that Aziraphale was already easing him into their impending breakup.</p><p>Aziraphale sent another response.</p><p>
  <em> I will be finishing some things at the lab today, after which I hope to catch up on some sleep. Please do not trouble yourself by waiting for me. I'll see you around. </em>
</p><p>Right. Crowley definitely did something to upset him.</p><p>At the very least, he had some time to think about what he'd do about that. He probably wouldn't be seeing Aziraphale until Sunday at the earliest. So that night, with Aziraphale safely stowed away in the confines of the rock storage lab, Crowley tugged Anathema along with him for a few glasses of margarita over at Newt's and Aziraphale's place. </p><p>He hadn't intended to get drunk. And he didn't. He was tipsy, rather loose-tongued at most. But he said the dumbest things even while sober anyway, so the difference wasn't all that important.</p><p>"What exactly is the deal with you and Aziraphale?" Newt asked, several glasses of margarita in. Crowley felt a bit flayed open, sort of vulnerable in front of the two of them. It was a bit like being lectured by his parents. "I really don't get it."</p><p>Crowley tipped back the remaining contents of his glass into his throat and groaned.</p><p>"S'not to get?" Crowley winced. His tongue was moving too sluggishly for his liking. "We're dating." </p><p>Newt jumped and turned to Anathema. "See!"</p><p>"But also we're not," continued Crowley.</p><p>Anathema shot her boyfriend a consoling look. "I explained it to you three times already. They're dating, technically, but it's subject to some terms and conditions." </p><p>Crowley winced into a newly made cocktail, his long pointed tongue lolling out in disgust. "I never read <em> terms and conditions</em>." </p><p>"But how do you actually feel about each other?" asked Newt, who (to the best of Crowley's limited knowledge) had a bit of a romantic streak.</p><p>"What kinda question's that?" Crowley scoffed, glaring at them both. "M'in love with him. 'Course I love him. Never really loved anyone before. Feels weird. Hurts sometimes."</p><p>"Care to elaborate on that?" said Anathema.  She was now encouraging him to talk his feelings out, which was only possible once he'd had a few drinks.</p><p>"He's just great, don't you think?" Crowley choked. He reckoned he was probably a pitiful sight, but no matter. He was pitiful on the inside too. "He-he's fun and he cares about lots of things. He loves what he loves, doesn't let anyone tell him he shouldn't. He's very strong—literally <em> and </em> figuratively. And we work well together. He makes me feel more... balanced. Like he's the magnetic north and I'm all the way at the other end of the pole but together we keep the Earth intact." </p><p>Newt shot Anathema a worried look. "You never told me he gets nerdy when he's drunk."</p><p>"He gets nerdy when he thinks of Aziraphale, love. Alcohol's got nothing to do with it."</p><p>Crowley grumbled. "Shuttup." </p><p>"You're probably just horny again," Anathema joked, trying to lighten up the mood, probably.</p><p>This struck a nerve with Crowley, who went from idly cradling his jaw in his hand to gesturing wildly in the air.</p><p>"That's the thing, though! Be easy if I'm just doing all this to get into his pants, but <em> Christbloodyfuckonacracker </em> m'not. For once I don't care about that."</p><p>"You don't care about... his pants?"</p><p>"<em>Ssssex</em>, Newton!" Crowley jabbed a finger at him. "With 'Ziraphale it's completely off the table, but I don't even mind! Can be well-acquainted with my hand if I have to. If it means I get to—get to keep 'im."</p><p>"That's... too much information." </p><p>"And the worst part's--" Crowley paused for some dramatic effect that went a beat too long. "Worst part's he's gonna break up with me before I've got the chance to kiss 'im. I'll never know what it's like to kiss 'im. S'gonna haunt me for fucking ever. Knowing him, his mouth probably tastes like cotton candy. The bastard." </p><p>"Crowley..." Great. Now Anathema had run out of encouragement and was only feeling sorry for him. He'd said enough. </p><p>"S'fine though," he said, shrugging. "I'm just glad that he's my friend." He checked the clock on his phone (a mistake, of course. He just saw the gorgeous angel's face again) and got up from his seat. "I should get going." </p><p>"Will you be fine on your own?" Anathema stood up to his side just in case he wobbled on his feet, but by some blessed miracle, Crowley stood up fine and waved her off.</p><p>"You're not coming with?"</p><p>Anathema turned back to Newt's side, grabbing his arm. "I'm staying the night here."</p><p>Crowley let out a sardonic laugh. "Of course you are."</p><p>Anathema rolled her eyes. "Come on, then. I'll walk with you to the bus stop."</p><p>"M'touched."</p><p>They bade their respective goodbyes and soon enough, Crowley and Anathema were out the door, leaving Newt to pick up scattered empty glasses smelling of tequila around the tiled kitchen counter. </p><p>He laughed a little to himself. "Well, that was fun."</p><p>The sound of the door opening grabbed his attention, and he called out. "Did Crowley forget something, love?" </p><p>No one answered. He turned towards the front door, but it was shut.  No one had opened it at all. That's odd. Because that would mean the sound came from—</p><p>With trepidation, he turned towards the direction of Aziraphale's bedroom door, which now stood wide open and had a sleep-rumpled blond-haired college student standing under it.</p><p>Newt's insides felt like lead. "A-Aziraphale! I thought you were at work?"</p><p>"I finished early and went back here for a nap. It ended up being much longer than I intended." Aziraphale's voice was small and uncertain.</p><p>"Right. Okay. Just, um, just out of curiosity--exactly how long have you been awake?"</p><p>"Not very long, I think. About a few minutes."</p><p>"And did you, uh, happen to hear--"</p><p>Aziraphale's whole face turned beet red. "I might have heard some things."</p><p>"Oh. <em> Bugger </em>." </p><p>Aziraphale nodded. "Bugger indeed."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and his obnoxious ringtone. Who the fuck would call this early on a Saturday morning? He was going to strangle--</p><p>His thoughts were halted when he heard Aziraphale's voice down the other end of the line. Aziraphale was inviting him to come to the family dinner with him and of course Crowley said yes. But that didn't mean he didn't spend the next six hours hyperventilating about what he was going to wear and how he ought to behave. </p><p>What a mess. Why did he even have to work so hard to impress Aziraphale's family? It wasn’t as if Aziraphale liked them much, and that wasn’t even including the fact that Aziraphale was gonna break up with him-- </p><p>
  <em> Today. </em>
</p><p>The expiration date of the dating scheme was today.</p><p>Holy shit. Well, that put a bit of a damper on things, but it wasn't like Aziraphale to break his heart <em> before </em> dinner, so he at least had a few more hours to pull himself together.</p><p>Crowley dressed in the one suit jacket that he owned, made of some thick silky black fabric and a maroon dress shirt with a couple buttons left open at the top. His hair was getting longer now and he couldn't wrangle them into effortless waves like he usually did, so he ended up tying it into a half-bun instead. </p><p>He looked in the mirror and put on his sunglasses. That didn't look so bad. May as well get it over with.</p><p>Aziraphale held his hand on the bus, and that was a nice consolation to the night's inevitable outcome. It was a bit of a long ride to Gabriel's side of the city, and Crowley was left with some time to idly stare out of the window.</p><p>Aziraphale nudged his shoulder. "I like what you've done with your hair. It suits you remarkably."</p><p>Crowley was at a loss for words. Aziraphale rarely commented on his appearance. "Thanks. You look nice, too." </p><p>"Don't be silly, I haven't done anything different from the usual."</p><p>Crowley shrugged and went back to staring out the window.</p><p>They were still holding hands when they got off the bus but, not wanting to make Aziraphale uncomfortable, Crowley let go just before they entered the restaurant. </p><p>It was a bit too easy to spot which one of the diners was Gabriel. Gabriel had a distinct air around him that seemed to let on exactly how annoying he was. Good-looking, of course (he wasn't surprised at that--anyone remotely related to Aziraphale would probably have lucked out in the genetic lottery somehow), but his face had none of the softness of Aziraphale's.</p><p>When Gabriel stood from his seat to greet them, Crowley immediately felt Aziraphale stiffen beside him.</p><p>Like Aziraphale, Gabriel also had a wide and beaming smile which dominated all his other features. But<em> unlike </em> him, his smile had no light, and was paired by cold, almost lifeless eyes.</p><p>He shot a disdainful look over at Crowley, even as the wide smile remained plastered on his face. The contrast was unnerving. "You didn't tell me you were bringing..."</p><p>Aziraphale wasn't speaking, and it was here Crowley realized that <em> this </em> was why Aziraphale had asked him to come, and he suddenly felt like a right idiot, spending the whole day fussing about Aziraphale breaking up with him.</p><p>He might not be Aziraphale's real boyfriend, but right now Aziraphale needed a friend. And Crowley was damn sure he was good at that.</p><p>He extended a hand smoothly towards Gabriel, putting all the charm he could muster to his grin. "Anthony J. Crowley, Aziraphale's best friend from university. 'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Fell."</p><p>"Call me Gabriel," he replied tightly.</p><p>Dinner was a tense affair all throughout. Aziraphale's parents barely spoke, and when they did it was only to agree with Gabriel's sentiments. Aziraphale participated the bare minimum. An hour into the dinner, Crowley wanted to throttle Gabriel just to get him to shut up.</p><p>What really took the cake, though, was when the food arrived. Aziraphale eagerly eyed his steak, and was just about to dig in when Gabriel interrupted him.</p><p>"Aziraphale, you haven't even touched the garden salad. Here, have some." Gabriel handed the plate over to him. "You really should be more concerned about your weight. It'll be much harder to shed that when you hit your mid-twenties, and you're already packing it on as it is."</p><p>Crowley could hardly believe what he’d just heard. He was internally seething, his grip tight around a fork he desperately tried not to imagine as a potential murder weapon. Aziraphale made no protest. Only piled his plate with the soggy vegetables and sighed.</p><p>Crowley nudged his own plate toward Aziraphale's, expectant fingers tapping on the table. Aziraphale looked flustered for a bit, but he needed no words, no prompting. He picked the tomatoes one by one from his dish and transferred them over to Crowley's empty plate.</p><p>Gabriel seemed to look on with disgust. "What are you doing?"</p><p>Crowley locked eyes with him, staring him down. "He doesn't eat them raw," he said, shoving slices of tomato into his mouth with confident nonchalance. "And if he doesn't want to, he doesn't <em> have </em> to."</p><p>That was the last comment Gabriel made about Aziraphale for the rest of the tense meal.</p><p>At last, the horrid birthday dinner came to its end, and they all stepped out onto the curb. Aziraphale's parents left first, hailing a cab and leaving automated statements of affection. Aziraphale waved them off, then rummaged through his bag. His brows knitted up with worry. </p><p>"Everything alright, angel?" Crowley asked, and he felt Gabriel's stare sharply shift towards him.</p><p>"Oh, silly me," said Aziraphale. "I left my phone at our table. Forget my own head next. I'll just go back inside for a bit. You ought to get going, Gabriel."</p><p>In a couple of seconds, Gabriel and Crowley were left alone to a very awkward silence which Crowley hoped would last until Aziraphale came back, or a cab came by. </p><p>Until Gabriel chose to speak with utter frankness.  </p><p>"I don't know what you are playing at here, Anthony, but I would advise you to keep your distance from Aziraphale."</p><p>"And why is that?"</p><p>"There's something about you that I don't trust."</p><p>"I think he's more than capable of judging for himself."</p><p>Gabriel laughed. "Him? Please. My brother has always been naive. Simplistic about a lot of things. But I've seen the likes of you. Now I'm not worried he'll end up like you, don't get me wrong, but I can see how his good nature might be swayed by your vile and…<em> worldly </em> ways."</p><p>Crowley almost laughed out loud. Who the hell did this guy think he was? He knew absolutely nothing about Aziraphale. </p><p>"Sorry, pal. Aziraphale's an adult. I don't see how it's any of your business who he makes friends with." </p><p>"I am family. I'm simply looking out for his best interest."</p><p>"Is that why you endeavour to humiliate him, make him feel like shit about himself literally every chance you get?"</p><p>"Who do you think you are, you - "</p><p>"I advise you to choose your next words very carefully." His tone had gone low with threatening rage. </p><p>Gabriel's face was stone hard, no trace of any pretense at civility. </p><p>"Do you think I'm afraid of hell incarnates like you?"</p><p>This time, Crowley <em> did </em> laugh, and he couldn't resist laying it on a bit thick. No one ever said he didn't have a flair for the dramatic. </p><p>"Now don't tell me I'm the only sinner here. Come on, you ought to wanna be guilty of a few things, too. Live a little, Gabe! Be a devil. And you’d be a natural at it, you already are <em> fittingly </em>repulsive, trust me." </p><p>"Why you - " </p><p>Something seemed to snap in Gabriel, who was around the same height as Crowley, but much bigger. He gave a hard shove to Crowley's shoulder that had the latter stumbling back several steps.</p><p>Crowley struggled to regain his footing <em> (bloody legs on land!)</em>, when he was steadied by a hand grasping his elbow, and suddenly Aziraphale was there, pulling him backwards and stepping in between him and Gabriel in what could only be described as a fighting stance.</p><p>"Gabriel, keep your filthy hands off my boyfriend or so help me!"</p><p>Both Gabriel and Crowley whipped their heads toward him.</p><p>Both Gabriel and Crowley also said, in near-perfect unison: "Your<em> what?</em>"</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't look so surprised," he said to a still gaping Crowley. Then, turning back to Gabriel: "I've quite a few things on my mind I want to say to you, but it's your birthday and all I wanted was to have a pleasant evening. I won't let you ruin that. We're leaving."</p><p>"Aziraphale. Get back here—!"</p><p>Aziraphale didn't seem to hear him. He tugged on Crowley's arm and together they walked away, without any idea where they were headed to. They only needed to get away.</p><p>A million things were flying off in Crowley's head all at once, and yep, there were the clanging noises again.  </p><p>Aziraphale was silently fuming while they walked, and Crowley figured it probably wasn't the right time to ask, but it was burning inside him.</p><p>Then, just to cap things off, it began to rain. </p><p>Thick droplets pattered loudly on the ground, over their bodies, and Aziraphale was left stunned for a bit, just watching the downpour. Crowley made a split-second decision, grabbed the angel's hand and tugged. Together they ran to take shelter in an empty phone booth, and he thought he may have heard Aziraphale laugh but the rain was too loud so he wasn't entirely sure.</p><p>The phone booth was a bit of a tight squeeze, and inside they were left dripping, pressed very close to each other.</p><p>Aziraphale had glistening drops of water over the tips of his soft hair, trailing down his forehead and cheeks, and Crowley couldn't stop thinking of how beautiful Aziraphale looked in <em> his </em> element.</p><p>Aziraphale, too, had gone silent. Staring at him.</p><p>And here he finally gained the courage to ask.</p><p>"Aziraphale. Did you just call me your boyfriend in front of that tosser?"</p><p>His cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. "Yes." </p><p>Crowley stopped breathing. Tried to stop hoping, too, but that bit was a little harder to achieve. "Does this mean you - "</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>." Aziraphale took a step towards him, not that there'd been much space between them before, and they were pressed together now from their chest down to the tips of their feet. Aziraphale gave him a smile that was soft and loving. “Yes, dearest."</p><p>He reached up and carefully removed Crowley’s glasses, and the world became much brighter, lit up by the adoring smile on the angel’s face.</p><p>"Oh." More clanging noises. "<em>Nngh. </em> Neat."</p><p>"Now I believe you've kept me waiting long enough for that kiss." Aziraphale grabbed both of his hands, hanging limply by his sides, and threaded their fingers together.</p><p>For a fraction of a second, everything seemed to happen all at once. Aziraphale's breath on his cheek. Aziraphale's gaze on his mouth. His own thoughts running at incredible speeds because he was about to kiss Aziraphale and this was Aziraphale's first kiss <em> ever, </em> and if he didn't pull himself together within the next remaining fraction of that second, he would end up giving Aziraphale the worst first kiss experience ever—and that simply would not do.</p><p>"Close your eyes."</p><p>Aziraphale followed, lashes fanning over his cheeks. Crowley took a deep breath to steady himself<em> (because the ground was shifting underneath his feet, he was sure)</em>, and closed the remaining distance.</p><p>Aziraphale's lips were just as soft as he'd imagined, very still against his own. There was just a little bit of edge to the way he held them, and Crowley had to remind himself that Aziraphale had no idea what to do so he went ahead, taking Aziraphale's upper lip in between his own parted ones and gave it a firm and playful squeeze. He angled his head, sweeping sideways once before capturing and doing the same to his lower lip.</p><p>Aziraphale released a soft sigh, parting his lips slightly, and now there was better reciprocation to it. He clung to Crowley's shoulders and, to Crowley's complete and utter delight, <em> pulled him closer.</em> </p><p>And just like that, Crowley was snogging the love of his life. </p><p>Holy shit.</p><p>He couldn't keep the eagerness from bubbling up inside him. His mouth stretched into a grin, and soon he was pressing a dopey smile onto the angel’s mouth. Aziraphale tentatively returned a few pecks of his own, learning quickly, and they were both left gasping.</p><p>When at last they broke apart, Aziraphale was very dazed and flushed.</p><p>"<em>Oh,</em>" he whispered.</p><p>"Yeah. Oh."</p><p>Crowley had never been kissed by anyone like <em> that </em>before.</p><p>Aziraphale seemed to recover and gave him a coy smile. "Now I imagine that must not have tasted quite like cotton candy, but I hope you liked it all the same. I know I did."</p><p>Crowley's smug grin was arrested completely. "You know about that?!"</p><p>But Aziraphale was back to ignoring him, staring out through the blurry glass windows of the phone booth. "I believe it's stopped raining now. How would you like to get coffee?"</p><p> </p><p>
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  <a href="https://twitter.com/Masaomoshi/status/1329727220193972225?s=20">
    <em>The lovely and amazing @masaomoshi made some gorgeous art of the last scene. Please do check it out! I just love how soft she draws them aaa</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for sticking with this story, I still can't believe we're almost done. It's been such a pleasure.</p><p>Please let me know what you thought of this in the comments! I really love seeing your reactions, thank you &lt;33</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Table</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Follow our favorite duo on the rest of their date &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's finally the last chapter! I can't thank you enough for having followed this story, loved and laughed at it. Bringing joy and laughter through my stories has always been my goal, and out of all the fics I've written I think this one achieved that the most. I've talked to so many amazing people and I'm really emotional that it's coming to an end now. Thank you and I love you! </p><p>When I started piecing this together, I wanted it to be a no-consequence, 100% feel-good story that people can come back to whenever they're going through a tough time and are in need of something happy with absolutely no catch. I hope this resolution is everything you dreamed it would be. It's been such a pleasure!</p><p>And HUGE thanks to my beta Stef / @flamingbentley (twitter)! Though tbh she's been so much more than a beta. This fic is practically the brainchild of our braincell halves stuck together. This would be so flavorless without her input and her encouragement. If you're reading this, dear, I love you so much!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They hailed the first cab that stopped right in front of them. Crowley clambered into his seat after Aziraphale. His brain was reeling. </p><p><em> Bloody heaven</em>, he’d just snogged <em> Aziraphale</em>.</p><p>He repeated that sentence in his head, flipped and turned it over, throwing it off just for it to come flying back like a boomerang because he had just kissed the angel Aziraphale and even now his lips were still tingling.</p><p>The atmosphere in the confined space was charged, but the silence was more than comfortable. A hint of a smile lingered on Aziraphale’s lips, and something like a very warm burst of pride swelled in Crowley’s chest.</p><p>Aziraphale’s hand rested limply on the seat space between them, and Crowley wondered if it would be okay to take it in his. Slowly, he crept his own hand closer, sliding across the leather surface to hook a pinky over the angel’s. </p><p>When Aziraphale didn’t pull away, he held his breath, stretched his other fingers out wide and brought them back down to slide over Aziraphale’s palm. Another beat of silence which caused him to fret briefly, and then Aziraphale’s hand was closing over his own, their fingers lacing together. </p><p>They’d held hands plenty of times before, even before they started the free trial dating scheme. Crowley could remember the first time, as well as all the other times it had happened, recall each groove and dent of Aziraphale’s fleshy palm. But tonight it seemed he had done a total reboot. Each graze of their hands was set anew. Each subtle glance from the angel suddenly meant something <em> more</em>. </p><p>Aziraphale tugged their joined hands over to his lap and used his free hand to absentmindedly stroke Crowley’s knuckles. It was… nice. Crowley couldn’t ever think of a time when holding hands with someone had been this mind blowing, but every second of this moment seemed to prove him even more wrong. He scooted closer, their sides pressed together, and was rewarded by Aziraphale resting his head on his shoulder.</p><p>Crowley didn’t think it could get better than this. Aziraphale had always been a tactile sort of person. From the very beginning, he seemed to always seek out Crowley’s touch. A nudge of the shoulder. A hand hooked onto the crook of his elbow. A tight hug given anytime it was needed. It was adorable how he was, once he’d gotten comfortable with someone. But not even all that could’ve prepared him for how affectionate Aziraphale was being <em> now</em>.</p><p>The cab came to a halt in front of their destination—a 24-hour coffee house near Aziraphale’s place. Climbing out of the vehicle and stepping back on the pavement felt a bit like resurfacing from a long training session. He couldn’t seem to get his legs to work properly, sauntering and wobbling as they were while Aziraphale held himself impeccably postured, much closer to Crowley’s side than was their usual.</p><p>Before they could make it to the entrance, Crowley turned to face him. </p><p>“So just to make sure we’re on the same page,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to appear nonchalant <em> (shut up, he knew it wasn’t working). </em>“Are we dating now?”</p><p>Aziraphale blinked a couple of times and said, quite cutely, “I should hope so, else what I did in the phone booth would have been terribly untoward.”</p><p>Crowley stopped walking and Aziraphale did the same. He’d been fully expecting a breakup at around this time, not—not a <em> snogging session </em> in a bloody phone booth. He couldn’t afford to misunderstand anything more about this. </p><p>He gripped Aziraphale’s shoulders and the angel looked up at him with wide and curious eyes.</p><p>“I mean,” Crowley whispered, no trace of mirth on his face, “<em> really </em> dating now? Not just for the free trial thing?”</p><p>Aziraphale gave him a bashful smile. “<em>Yes</em>, Crowley. You are my thoughtful, amazing, incredibly <em> dashing </em> boyfriend for an indefinite period of time.”</p><p>“Yeah, give me a mo.” </p><p>Leaving Aziraphale perplexed, Crowley spun round on his heel. He barely suppressed a wicked grin forming on his face, and pumped a triumphant fist into the air.</p><p>He turned back around, his grin baring a row of glinting white teeth. Too wide. Too transparent. He took Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it. “I’ll take great care of you, angel. I swear. I’m not gonna screw this up.”</p><p>“Now really, my dear, isn’t this just a little over the top?”</p><p>A flash of a memory that stretched all the way back to anthropology class blazed through his mind.</p><p>“It really isn’t,” replied Crowley. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”</p><p>  </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aziraphale ordered a hot cocoa and Crowley his usual steaming mug of black coffee. They sat next to each other in a cozy booth, a shared slice of blueberry cheesecake between them. And because Crowley’s mind was still whirling and Aziraphale was showering him with too much new information tonight, he couldn’t resist asking more questions.</p><p>“So when did you start liking me?”</p><p>Aziraphale barely looked up from his forkful of cheesecake. “I’ve always liked you, dear.”</p><p>“Don’t evade the question. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” </p><p>Aziraphale dropped his fork, brows scrunching up with worry. “Well, fine. I confess I really had no idea at the time that you told me your own feelings. And I saw no reason why you would be interested in me in the… romantic aspect.” His gaze shifted to his own hands. “Especially not when you can have anyone.”</p><p>“You’re kidding, right? Have you seen yourself?”</p><p>“I have. And as you might remember, I was told to watch my weight just a while ago.”</p><p>Crowley let out a devious snarl. “Gabriel’s a wanker. Angel, I was smitten literally from the first moment I saw you. You’re gorgeous. I don’t tell you that enough, do I? Should definitely say it more.”</p><p>Aziraphale gave him a small smile, patting his hand. “So there is that,” he continued. “And when you proposed the dating scheme, I thought, well, there could be no harm to this. It might give me the chance to change the way I feel about you. But it didn’t.” </p><p>Just like that, all of Crowley’s hopes and confidence came trudging back down a bleak path. He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. “O-oh. Well, s’alright. I mean, take all the time you need—” </p><p>Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it like that, dearest.” He clutched Crowley’s hand with a desperation he’d never shown before. “When we started dating, I became freer, more open around you. But it didn’t change any of my actual feelings about you. It’s as though they were always there, just waiting to be expressed. So I stand by my answer. I’ve always liked you.”</p><p>Crowley was getting a ton of disgustingly warm feelings in his stomach. “Fine, then, I’ll take it.”</p><p>“The thing is,” Aziraphale swallowed, and Crowley could almost see the gears in his brain turning. “I did try very hard to keep everything the same, but it only started to make sense when I accepted that some things, at least, had to change.”</p><p>Crowley blinked. “I mean, I didn’t--I wanted you to see that, too. That things don’t have to change between us just because we’re dating. S’why we still did all the same things we’ve already done.”</p><p>Aziraphale gave him a fond smile. “And I appreciate that, my dear, I do. But you don’t <em> have </em> to do all that. You don’t have to grind things to a halt for my sake. You only need to teach me how to… how to catch up with where you are.”</p><p>Crowley had no idea how to respond to a declaration of that magnitude. “<em>Hn.</em>” There. Good enough.</p><p>“You care so much,” said Aziraphale, “but I, too, need to adjust to this new dynamic. I should meet you halfway. I want to make you just as happy as you do for me.”</p><p>Feeling slightly bold, he brought up a hand to stroke the side of Aziraphale’s face, fingers running over candy floss curls. Aziraphale leaned into the touch and smiled—a sight to behold. He ran those fingers down Aziraphale’s cheek, trailing down to gently raise his chin, his gaze lowering to an angelic mouth.</p><p>“Can I…?” </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, his lips parting by a fraction, breath coming out like a whistle. “Yes. <em> Always.</em>”</p><p>Crowley leaned in for a tender kiss. Aziraphale puckered his lips, his mouth molding over Crowley’s, giving in easily. Nothing was urgent or forceful, and yet they both parted breathlessly.</p><p>“But I realized that I love you when we were in the library,” Aziraphale blurted out.</p><p>Stunned, Crowley eloquently said: “What?”</p><p>Aziraphale took on a wistful expression, an angel looking very dreamlike in a moment that seemed too good to be real. Crowley was getting the overwhelming urge to pinch himself.</p><p>“You were sleeping,” he began, looking at Crowley with a burst of overwhelming fondness, and Crowley was reminded that Aziraphale’s love was a tipping point; that once he’d made up his mind to love something, he never did it half-assed. “You were asleep, Crowley, but you were still gripping my hand, and I realized you didn’t even have any reason to be there, but for me. And it made me wonder whether I’ll ever meet anyone who cares for me as much as you do. And I must admit I was frightened. But then you started doing this,” (he paused and stroked his thumb over Crowley’s hand), “and then I thought: ‘<em>Oh. I’m really in love with him’</em>.”</p><p>Crowley had forgotten an entire dictionary’s worth of words. He parsed through the basics quickly and tried to get his brain booted back up.</p><p>“Why didn’t you say anything?”</p><p>Aziraphale looked down at his lap, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Because I still didn’t understand why you would want me. I’m probably nothing like the people you used to date, so I went ahead and asked you. And your response was, well.”</p><p>Crowley winced. “Christ, yeah. That was dumb. You really caught me off guard!”</p><p>“Yes, I was rather upset about that. It made me doubt whether you were really serious about me, or if I’d just gotten things wrong and I had fallen deeply while this was all just a game to you.”</p><p>The words practically screeched through Crowley’s ears. “No, no! Angel, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” He clutched Aziraphale’s hand tightly.</p><p>In response, the angel tipped up his chin, his eyes fluttering closed. Crowley, amused and still partly incredulous about the whole thing, chuckled fondly. Because <em> of course </em> Aziraphale would still be politely and adorably demanding when he wanted to be kissed. </p><p>Crowley obliged him once more, and Aziraphale very happily sighed when their lips touched.</p><p>He continued his tale when they pulled back. “I avoided you the next day. I took up one last shift at the lab, though it turns out there wasn’t much left to do. So I headed straight home and took a bit of a nap. When I woke up, you were just outside my door with Anathema and Newt and, um,<em> talking.</em>”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Aziraphale shot him a bleak smile. “I was only waiting for a proper moment to show myself, but then I heard my name and so I—”</p><p>“Yeah, heard the whole thing, didn’t you?” Crowley slapped a hand over his warm face. “Not that I said anything I didn’t mean, but that’s bloody embarrassing. I’ve a reputation to maintain, you know.”</p><p>“But I’m very glad you said all those things.” He went back to stroking Crowley’s hand in soothing motions. “It made me convinced that you do love me, and I couldn’t wait to talk to you about it. But I still had that dastardly birthday dinner to deal with, and so this morning I—I invited you to come with.”</p><p>“Oh. That’s why. Honestly, I thought you needed some support before having to face your brother.”</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I dread having to see Gabriel, but I can perfectly handle being civil with him all on my own.”</p><p>Crowley turned a bit red with embarrassment. “Of course.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s expression shifted to something sharp, bordering on…<em> flirty? </em> Holy hell.</p><p>“That’s not to say that I am not grateful to you for defending me in front of him.” Aziraphale’s hand went from resting on his wrist to traveling up his forearm. “But Gabriel does tend to go into a fit when provoked, and I know you wouldn’t have relented as easily. I’m just glad I got there on time.”</p><p>Crowley stammered. “I-I wasn’t defending you! That was for <em> my </em>honor! He called me ‘hell incarnate’!”</p><p>“Mmhmm. Do you know, I dearly like how protective you are.”</p><p>“<em>Ngk</em>.”</p><p>“It’s true, my darling.”</p><p>“Took you more than a year to know me as anything more than the penis ring guy. Who gave you the right to talk like this?”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Aziraphale haughtily. “It is a penis <em> sheath</em>.”</p><p>Crowley shot him a mighty glare that dissipated quickly when Aziraphale giggled and pecked him on the cheek.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They decided to take the long route home by walking back to Aziraphale’s apartment. And as though the night didn’t already have enough surprises, Crowley also discovered that Aziraphale’s tactile tendencies from when they were just friends escalated now to being almost clingy—not that he was complaining<em> (god, no)</em>. Aziraphale had both his arms wound around Crowley’s waist and he had one arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders as they walked. There weren’t many people still out in the streets at this hour, though they did receive weird looks from a couple of them. Crowley didn’t care. All he knew was that Aziraphale was very soft. He didn’t often allow anyone into his personal space, but he could easily get used to <em> this</em>.</p><p>But all nights, even one as long and winding as this one had been, must come to an end. Far too soon, they reached Aziraphale’s doorstep, in a position which mirrored their own selves from two days ago—back when everything had been so different. </p><p>Crowley was the first to speak.</p><p>“I had-I had a great time, angel.” That was a bit of an understatement. “Probably not the part with Gabriel in, but everything after—was good. Very.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked a bit put out, his lips pursed as he trained his wide-eyed stare at Crowley. “It isn’t that late, is it?”</p><p>Crowley let out a round of soft laughter. “I’ll be here tomorrow, first thing in the morning. If you want.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked visibly relieved, smiling in return. They were two helpless creatures that suddenly found every small thing a great source of enjoyment, everything suddenly beautiful and entertaining. Someone could drop by, tell them to fuck off, and they would burst into fits of laughter until their stomachs ached. Like absolute madmen.</p><p>“Good night, then,” Aziraphale said. “Get home safely.”</p><p>“I will. G’night, angel.”</p><p>Aziraphale lifted his chin once again, and Crowley would probably never get tired of the sight. He grabbed Aziraphale by the waist and smoothly ducked his head to pull him in for a deep kiss. Aziraphale melted into him instantly, his arms winding around Crowley’s neck. Crowley angled his head, teasing and nipping at Aziraphale’s lip. He swiped the tip of his tongue over the seam of Aziraphale’s mouth and it yielded easily. </p><p>Aziraphale parted his lips and allowed Crowley’s tongue to explore the cavern of his mouth. It was oddly flexible, swiping over the roof of his mouth, bending back to run over the back of his teeth, before trailing down to nudge and lift at Aziraphale’s own tongue. </p><p>Aziraphale let out an eager moan which seemed to surprise them both. The sound went straight to Crowley’s groin, and holy shit, he nearly slammed the angel to the nearest flat surface then and there.</p><p>He was gonna have to get better at restraining himself if Aziraphale was going to keep making those obscene noises at him.</p><p>When Crowley pulled back, Aziraphale was flushed, his lips swollen and glistening. There was a peculiar gleam of shock in his eyes as he gazed at Crowley, and the sight lit up a million other things in him. Distantly, his mind registered that his jeans were suddenly much tighter than they were when he left his flat. <em> (Not a word from you, dear reader. If you’ve been following along this insane journey, you’d know that it’d been </em> <em> a while </em> <em> since he last had some.) </em></p><p>Aziraphale cleared his throat. “It’s not, by the way,” he whispered, his blue eyes gone a shade darker than their usual.</p><p>“What is? Or isn’t? <em> What?</em>”</p><p>Aziraphale gnawed on his lip, shifting nervously on his feet. “Off the table.”</p><p>Crowley racked his brains for what those words might have meant, and then it occurred to him—</p><p>“C-can you repeat that? For both our sakes. I can’t afford to misinterpret this.”</p><p>“The, uh, sex.” Crowley sucked in a huge breath. “What you said to Newt and Anathema is wrong. I never said it was off the table.”</p><p>Funny how so many things can change over a short period of time, even where someone who usually moved at a mesozoic pace was involved. </p><p>Crowley was left gaping. “Wait, so you—?”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled. “I need more time, of course, but-but we can. If you want.”</p><p>“If I want?”</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“I <em> think</em>?”</p><p>“Oh dear, it appears you’ve malfunctioned.”</p><p>“N-no! <em> Me? </em> ” Crowley balked, his hands flying up in the air in meaningless gestures. Anything to make a point, now. “I’m <em> fine, </em> see? You wanna do it, I’m game! Off the table, <em> on </em>the table—”</p><p>Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. “Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”</p><p>Crowley hurried to make a swift recovery, before Aziraphale could come to the realization that his boyfriend was an idiot and break up with him on the spot. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, a smile of disbelief on his face. “I just never thought you’d even consider it. But it’s-it’s nice, angel. Whenever you’re ready.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Really. I can’t wait.” Aziraphale shot up a brow. “I-I mean I can! I <em> can</em>. Ngrhh. I will wait.”</p><p>Aziraphale giggled softly, a welcome, beautiful sound filled with trust. “I know you will, darling.” </p><p>He took Crowley’s hand in his once more, smiling. They took the moment of comfortable silence to gaze down at their joined hands.</p><p>Then, Crowley remembered something.</p><p>“Wait. When we were in the library, you drew something, didn’t you?”</p><p>“I did, yes.”</p><p>“Was <em> this </em> why you drew a butt on my hand?”</p><p>“A what?” Aziraphale turned a flustered shade of red. “Crowley, that was meant to be a <em> heart!</em>”</p><p>Crowley couldn’t stop looking down at their hands. Couldn’t stop thinking, after all, that this wasn’t a dream.</p><p>“Ah,” he said, flippantly. “Right. That makes more sense.” </p><p> </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>After thinking about this for a while, I realized I'm also not quite ready to leave the FTB boys yet, so this work will be expanded into a series. Nothing much, just a collection of ficlets set in the same universe which explores the greater intimacies of Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship. Some of these will probably have an M-rating, so fair warning! I just feel like these fics are something that I would've loved to read back when I was still so confused about my sexuality. But also, writing these two within this universe keeps me feeling pure (especially when compared to my other more *ahem* racy fics lmaoo)</p><p>Thanks again so so much for sticking with this story! I am ever so grateful.</p><p>I'm also on twitter! @angelsnuffbox</p>
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